Floriography
by Sabulana
Summary: Jim Gordon leads a peaceful life these days, running Poison Ivy with Ivy and Selina. It's not what he envisioned for himself, but it's a good life. Enter Mayor Oswald Cobblepot. While looking for flowers to send a particular message to Edward's new girlfriend, he strikes up a friendship with Jim. Then Oswald asks Jim to pretend to be his boyfriend. Flower Shop AU, Gobblepot.
1. Orange Lilies

A short note: This story is complete and has been shared elsewhere online, but I've decided to post it here too. There are three chapters, and I'll post one per week unless life gets in the way, and then upload the sequels too.

Beta'd by the lovely butterfliesandresistance/thekeyholder. Any remaining errors are mine.

* * *

Working in a flower shop hadn't really been where Jim Gordon expected to be after leaving the military, but there he was. He had tried the police force, and had almost made it all the way up to detective before he pissed off the Commissioner and his colleagues too much and lost his job. He'd drifted for a while, before a couple of the homeless kids he'd run into during his police work had crossed his path needing help. Not that they were really kids anymore, now that they were in their twenties. Unable to say no to them, he'd agreed and now helped Ivy Pepper and Selina Kyle run Poison Ivy, a flower shop with a growing reputation, and a reputation for being able to grow any flower or plant you wanted.

It wasn't too bad, really, when the shop was quiet. He took care of a lot of the business side of things, because Ivy was more concerned about her plants and growing them than selling them. Selina would help out in the shop as well, arranging bouquets and handling deliveries. She had a better sense of style and colour when it came to putting together bouquets, but Jim was picking it up as they went along. Ivy was the undisputed best, though, and Jim would spend time after closing the shop at her greenhouses a few nights a week, practising with her.

It looked like it was going to be another quiet afternoon, with Jim minding the shop on his own, when the door opened to admit an agitated man in a formal suit. His hair was spiked up in an almost bird-like fashion and he walked with a pronounced limp.

Jim straightened up from where he had been slouching against the counter and straightened the green apron he wore. "Mayor Cobblepot?" Of course he recognised the man. Who didn't, in this city? "How may I help you?" he added a little belatedly.

The Mayor looked up at him and pasted on a congenial smile. "I thought I'd send a bunch of flowers to my dear Chief of Staff and his new girlfriend," he said. "A way to congratulate them finding each other and falling in love so quickly." He came forward, leaning heavily on his umbrella as he looked up. The congenial expression was gone, and a glint of mischief — or possibly malice - had replaced it. "What's the best way to say 'I hate you' in flowers?" he asked.

Jim blinked uncertainly, then smiled despite himself. Usually, people wanted sappy romantic messages, so this was a refreshing change.

"Right, well, I can't promise these meanings will be exact - I'm still picking up a lot of this stuff from Ivy - but I believe we can manage that." Jim came around the counter to start picking flowers out of the containers. Another reason Ivy didn't come into the shop much - she preferred her flowers still living, not slowly dying. "So, what did they do to deserve this?" Jim asked. He glanced over at Mayor Cobblepot. "You don't need to tell me, I'm just curious."

"He abandoned me for a woman he met at the liquor store," the mayor replied after a moment. "I waited all night, we were going to have dinner, and I was going to tell him how I feel and then... Well." The anger dropped away, replaced by dejection. "She's perfect for him. Pretty, intelligent, informed, likes riddles... According to Ed, she doesn't seem to have a single flaw."

Jim frowned in sympathy. He was well aware of what it was like to love someone who chose to be with someone else. "That's rough," he said, at a loss for what else to say. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't for the mayor to be jealous of a love rival. Finishing up his selections of flowers, he carried them back to the counter and began arranging them in a bouquet.

"Now, let's see... We have orange lilies for hate, some yellow carnations for disappointment and rejection, scarlet geraniums for stupidity and distrust and a little basil to say that you hate her." Jim said, as he picked up each flower. "Will that do?"

Mayor Cobblepot nodded, a smile creeping back onto his face. "I... Yes, yes, that will do," he said.

"Okay then, I'll wrap these up for you,"Jim said. "Do you want to write out a card for the happy couple?"

The Mayor grimaced. "I... No, I don't think so. Or perhaps I should? A congratulations on finding each other, perhaps? I don't know if they'll understand the flowers... No, maybe I shouldn't." He shook his head. "I'll hand them over, and wish them well."

"And pretend you don't know what the flowers mean if they click on," Jim added with a wry smile. He finished wrapping up the flowers and handed the bouquet over, quoting the price.

"Precisely," Mayor Cobblepot said. "What's your name, by the way?" he asked, as he handed over his money.

"Jim Gordon, Mr. Mayor," Jim replied. "Please, do come again. I'll be happy to help you."

"Please, call me Oswald, Jim," the mayor replied. "And I'll certainly remember this place in the future."

He limped out, clutching the flowers. Jim watched him go, a little bemused. He didn't expect to see the Mayor in the little shop again, whatever he said.

A couple of days later, a more downcast, irritated Oswald Cobblepot entered the shop. Jim was at the counter once again, flicking through a gardening magazine.

"Mayor Cobblepot, a pleasure to see you again," Jim greeted.

"Didn't I say to call me Oswald, old friend?" he replied, a smile replacing his irritation when he saw Jim.

"Oswald, then. How can I help you today?" Jim said.

Oswald dug in his pocket and pulled out a small sheet of paper. "Apparently the perfect Isabella is fluent in the language of flowers and was quite upset by my last bouquet. I, of course, hurried to explain that I simply chose blooms that looked as pretty as she, and had no true idea what the meaning behind them was, but Ed has insisted I purchase new flowers to apologise, and to ensure there are no more mistakes, has provided me with a list of acceptable flowers." He showed the list to Jim. "I trust you can help."

Jim took the list. "Of course, I'll do my best." He examined the list and began choosing the flowers he'd include.

"I just don't understand," Oswald lamented as he worked. "They've known each other for a week. A week! How can he love her so much after such a short time?"

"It's easy to mix love and infatuation," Jim replied. "Especially when you've just met the other person and they seem to be perfect in every way. I've made that mistake when I was younger, but I've learned since. I don't say it unless I truly mean it now."

"They're all over each other, all the time. When we're working, he's texting her. He brings her back to the mansion after their dates. He cooks her dinner in my kitchen," Oswald complained, leaning against the counter.

"They're in the honeymoon phase, that's all," Jim said. "They'll get over it and settle down into boring domesticity soon."

"As long as it's not in my mansion," Oswald grumbled.

Jim couldn't help the soft laugh as he finished picking out flowers. "You know, you could try to be happy that he's happy," he said.

Oswald sighed. "I'm trying. It's good that he's happy. I just wish..."

"That he was happy with you?" Jim finished. "I know how you feel, Oswald."

Oswald jerked his head up to look at him in shock. "You? But you're- Why would anyone turn you down?" He turned pink, looking away out of the window.

Jim turned away, back to the flowers, to give him as much privacy as he could in his embarrassment.

"Does it get easier?" Oswald asked. "I've never... I don't have much experience in matters of the heart. I'm not the kind of person people fall in love with. I didn't even think I was the kind of person who fell in love, for that matter."

Jim turned around fully. "It fades a bit, the pain. But then, she wasn't everywhere I was. I wasn't working with her, not by the end," Jim admitted quietly. "But it still hurt to see her marry someone else."

"Oh."

"But she's happy, and I would only have made her miserable. Did make her miserable, actually, at the end of our relationship."

"Do you think I'd make Ed miserable if we were together?" Oswald asked. "He's my best friend. My only friend. I've never known anyone else like him. We get along better than I've ever gotten along with anyone."

"I couldn't say," Jim said awkwardly. "But I've never met him. Maybe you would be, or maybe the extra level of intimacy would spoil things. What if the relationship falls apart later down the line, and you lose that friendship when you lose his love?"

Oswald looked stricken. "You think… you think it would end badly?" he asked.

Jim shrugged, wishing he could take his words back. He had been trying to make the guy feel better, not worse. "Who knows? Like I said, I've never met this guy you're so hung up on. I don't know anything about him, or your friendship with him. I barely even know you, just what you tell me when you come in here, and things I read in the news."

Oswald blinked a bit, processing. "Yes, yes. Things might turn out alright. If only I could get rid of Isabella…"

"Oswald," Jim said quietly, warningly. "We're trying to be happy for them, not breaking them up."

The way Oswald looked aside made Jim wonder if he had been thinking about breaking them up, or something else altogether. He wasn't completely ignorant to the rumours that Oswald had once been a criminal kingpin, ruling Gotham's underworld before being confined to Arkham. After he'd been released, he'd disappeared for a time and then resurfaced to lead a campaign to become mayor. Jim had actually voted for him, but mostly because he was tired of the former Mayor James. Oswald at least seemed to genuinely love Gotham, whereas Aubrey James had seemed much more self-serving, afraid to rock the boat too much in case it damaged his position.

"Anyway, your flowers," Jim said. "I haven't picked everything from the list, and I've thrown in a couple that weren't, but they'll suit the meanings regardless. Apology bouquets are something I get to arrange regularly." He named them as he wrapped them up. "Purple hyacinth to simply say you're sorry, Lily of the Valley to say you want to reconcile - don't give me that look, you know you have to make nice with her." Oswald hastily smiled his bland mayoral smile. "And anemones for sincerity. Because you do mean this apology." Jim hesitated a moment. "They also mean death, though with the rest of these flowers, she should simply assume that they mean you're sincere in your apology."

Oswald smiled broadly at the double meaning. "Jim, that's wonderful. You're brilliant," he said, much more cheerful now than when he had first come into the store.

Jim flushed at the praise. "I'm just doing my job," he said.

"I mean it," Oswald said, giggling. "Sincerely."

Jim smirked. "One more thing before you go," he said. He turned and plucked a small white flower out of one of the pots. "This is on the house," he said. "Camellia, for good luck," he said, tucking it into Oswald's buttonhole.

He glanced at Oswald's face, suddenly realising how close they were. He could make out every freckle dusting his nose and cheeks, the flecks of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you," Oswald said.

Jim realised he had been standing there a little too long and stepped back awkwardly. "Anything for my favourite customer," he said, not meeting Oswald's eyes.

"Oh." A small, shy smile spread over Oswald's face, and Jim was struck with the realisation that Oswald could be honestly adorable.

Oswald paid for the apology bouquet and left, seeming to use his umbrella cane a bit less forcefully than usual. Jim watched him go.

If all went well, then Oswald wouldn't need any more flowers, for any kind of message. Jim wondered whether he should have given Oswald his number while he had the chance, and then dismissed the idea.

The opportunity had passed, and anyway, getting involved with someone who was in love with someone else could only end in heartbreak.

* * *

The next morning, Jim came along to open the shop early. He was still setting out plants for display when Oswald burst in, looking furious. Jim worried for a moment that he'd got the flowers wrong, that Oswald was upset with him, but then the mayor burst out with, "Are there any flowers that say 'mind your own business, you man-stealing hag'?"

"What?" Jim asked, not sure how serious Oswald was about that request.

"It was a disaster!" Oswald announced, waving his umbrella cane dramatically. "She knows everything!"

"What? Slow down, tell me everything," Jim said.

"Isabella!" Oswald hissed, pacing the length of the shop and back. His umbrella cane slammed into the ground forcefully with every step. "I gave her the flowers - and she knows about the anemones - and she said she knows I'm in love with Ed, and she understands, because he's so wonderful that of course I'm in love with him, and then she tells me she's not even jealous."

"And this is why you need flowers that say… what was it? Mind your own business?" Jim asked.

"With an emphasis on the 'man-stealing hag'," Oswald said. "Please tell me there are flowers like that."

Jim couldn't help it. He laughed.

"Stop laughing at me and help me," Oswald snapped.

Jim tried not to laugh, and to wipe the smile from his face. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But I really don't think there are flowers for that. Not that I know of, anyway."

"Damn," Oswald muttered. "Well, I suppose it would be too much to hope for. Though I actually do need some flowers," he added. "I plan to visit my parents' graves this morning. My mother always loved lilies, but I'm not sure what would be appropriate for my father."

"White roses are typically used to honour a father who had passed on," Jim replied. He turned to take the roses and lilies from the pots behind him. Roses and lilies of all colours typically sold well, so Ivy grew lots of them to sell in the shop, both as cut bunches and in pots.

"White roses," Oswald repeated. "Yes, I think he might have liked those." He took the offered flowers, and paid when Jim rang up the total.

"Oh my god," said a voice behind Jim, after the door had shut behind Oswald. "Was that actually the mayor?"

Jim jumped. He'd forgotten Selina was in the back room, putting together bouquets.

"Third time he's been in this week," he said.

"Wow." Selina was wide-eyed. "Does he… know I work here?" she asked.

Jim shrugged. "No? He's never asked, I've never said. He's just bought some flowers, then left. Like every other customer."

Selina turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Really? You know he used to be a criminal, right? And you're all against crime and stuff."

"I'm not turning away a paying customer, especially not the mayor," Jim said.

"And it had nothing to do with the fact that you were clearly checking him out as he left," Selina said.

Jim inwardly cursed her sharp eyes, even as he blushed. He couldn't deny it though. "Yes, he's attractive. It doesn't matter though," he said. "He's in love with someone else, and he probably won't come back anyway.

Except that he did. The next Saturday morning, Oswald called in with a polite smile and a request for lilies and white roses.

"How long does a honeymoon phase for a relationship usually last?" he asked as Jim wrapped up his flowers. "Because if I have to put up with this for much longer, I'm going to have to take drastic measures."

Jim shrugged. "It's different for everyone. Just wait until Ed finds a flaw in her, or she finds a flaw in him."

Oswald frowned. "But she already knows what happened to his last girlfriend and hasn't left him," he said.

Jim paused and looked up. "What happened to the last girlfriend?" he asked, not even sure he wanted to know the answer.

"He killed her. Accidentally, of course, and he's so terribly sorry about it," Oswald said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather. He had a wary look in his eye when he looked at Jim, though. "He was insane, and he went to Arkham, and now he's alright again. He has a certificate. So do I, for that matter."

"A certificate. Right." Jim had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that. "Well." He finished wrapping up the flowers. "Wait, if he killed his last lover, why do you want to be with him? Wouldn't you be afraid he would relapse?"

Oswald drew back, offended. "Ed would never hurt me! I trust him, and he trusts me. He believes in me like no one else has since my dear parents passed away."

"Okay, okay." Jim held up his hands. "I didn't mean any harm. I was just… curious, I guess. I don't know Ed, so I can only take your word for it after all."

Oswald relaxed a bit. "That's true," he said.

Jim held out the two bunches of flowers. "Here you go, Oswald. Take care of yourself."

Oswald accepted them, turning a little pink across his cheeks for some reason. "I will. Thank you, Jim." He slid some money across the counter and left before Jim could give him his change.

It became a weekly ritual after that. Oswald would call in every Saturday morning for lilies and roses for his parents and they would chat a bit. Jim would always tuck a flower into his buttonhole, sharing their meanings if he knew them. Jim always made sure to open the shop on Saturdays, and neither Ivy nor Selina argued against it. He got to learn more about Oswald, as topics moved on from the sickly sweet romance between Ed and Isabella to which of his mayoral duties Oswald enjoyed and those he didn't, his childhood and relationship with his mother, the brief time he'd known his father.

In return, Jim shared bits of his past, his distant relationship with his own family after his father died, the brief period he was in the GCPD, and anecdotes about Ivy and Selina. He started looking forward to it more often, waiting for Oswald to walk in each Saturday. When not fretting about his unrequited feelings for his Chief of Staff, Oswald was intelligent, occasionally funny and the hints of danger that slipped through every so often only served to intrigue Jim rather than turn him off. It was at complete odds with the strange sweetness and innocence that Oswald was also capable of.

He lasted three weeks before he gave in to the urge to slip Oswald his phone number at the same time as his change.

"For when you want to talk between these visits," he said.

Oswald took the little piece of paper almost reverently. "Thank you, my friend." He tucked it away in his pocket carefully.

After that, Oswald and Jim texted regularly during the day, little observations and updates about their days.

 _Bruce Wayne just came in for flowers for his parents. He said you recommended me?_

 _I met him at a charity gala recently. He complimented the flower you gave me that day - the clematis? I told him I got it from Jim at Poison Ivy, best florist in the city, of course!_

 _I don't know about that. I just got roped into selling flowers one day._

 _Nonsense! You're wonderful and helpful. Unlike these councillors I'm meeting with._

 _Oswald! Are you texting me in a meeting? You should be paying attention!_

In the evenings, when Oswald had nothing left to do, he would sometimes call Jim as well, if only to rant about the idiots he was dealing with more efficiently, or the latest updates in Ed and Isabella's perpetual honeymoon phase. Jim would sit and wait for his call most nights while telling himself that he wasn't doing just that, and try not to feel disappointed if the phone didn't ring. Oswald was the Mayor, and his duties often kept him very busy, he told himself firmly, and Oswald was considerate enough not to call if the hour grew too late.

At least, usually he was. When the phone rang at nearly midnight one night, Jim's first thought was to hang up on whoever it was, but when he saw Oswald's name on the screen, all annoyance fled.

"Hey, Oswald," he greeted, trying not to sound as though he had just woken up on the sofa, having fallen asleep in front of the TV earlier.

"Jim, old friend, I'm so sorry to bother you this late," Oswald began. "But I don't know who else to turn to. Truthfully, I don't have anyone else. I've done something incredibly stupid, Jim. I don't think flowers are going to fix this at all."

"Whoa, slow down. What happened? Have you been drinking?" Jim asked, sitting up. He reached for the remote to turn the TV off, regardless of the fact that it left him in darkness. He didn't need some sitcom providing a laugh track in the background while Oswald was so obviously upset.

"Um, a bit," Oswald admitted. "Maybe. Maybe a lot. I've been really very foolish, Jim. Help me, old friend. My only friend, now."

To Jim's horror, there was a sniffle on the other end of the line, then a hiccup and a sob.

"Oswald, tell me everything," he said. He'd never been much good with crying people, and it was somehow worse when Oswald was on the other end of the phone call, instead of being beside him.

"I told Ed. I couldn't keep it in anymore. It just slipped out," Oswald said. "Told him I love him and he was... Shocked. Horrified, I think." His voice broke. "What do I do, Jim? I can't lose him. He went out hours ago, and I was waiting for him to come home, but what if he doesn't? What if he's gone for good?"

Jim's heart twisted painfully in his chest. "I'm sure he just needs time to process," he said. "Come to terms with how you feel about him. He can't avoid you forever, he's still your Chief of Staff."

Oswald made a small sound of agreement.

"He's probably gone to Isabella's, and she's probably advising him to calm down and not throw away your friendship, or something," Jim said. He was guessing, based off the things Oswald had told him about her. When he managed to break through the insults and the jealousy, it seemed like Isabella might actually be a nice person. Perhaps a little too trusting, too blinded by her love for Ed, if she knew that he'd killed his last girlfriend and she hadn't run for the hills, but given that she knew that Oswald was in love with Ed and hadn't made any attempt to separate them for longer than it took to go on a date (that first night notwithstanding, as it hadn't been planned), Jim thought she couldn't have been as bad as Oswald frequently made her out to be.

Oswald made a disgusted noise at the mention of Isabella. "Isabella! I don't want to hear about that - that-" he spluttered for a moment, apparently too drunk to come up with a suitable insult.

"Alright, alright. No more mentioning... Her," Jim agreed. "Let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Okay," Oswald agreed. "But... What should I do about Ed? What if he comes back? What do I say? What if he wants nothing more to do with me?"

"You don't know that's what he's going to want," Jim said. "And I don't know either. All I know about him is from what you've told me, remember?" He sighed. "Look, romantic advice isn't my forte. I'm the reason all my relationships failed. Too invested in my work, too secretive, acting like I had a death wish..." He trailed off, shrugging despite the fact that Oswald couldn't see it. "Then I got fired from the GCPD, but it was too late to save my relationship with Lee. When I saw her again, she'd already moved on, got engaged to someone else."

"But surely someone like you would have no trouble finding someone else?" Oswald replied. His voice sounded steadier now. Jim hoped that meant he had stopped crying.

"I was still in love with her," Jim said. "For a long time, I wanted her back. It kind of hinders attempts at romancing anyone else. Then I met Selina again, and she introduced me to Ivy and got me to agree to help her set up shop to help keep her off the streets, which then led to doing doing just about everything for her, so she can just grow plants in her greenhouses."

"So there's been no one since?" Oswald asked. "You've never wanted anyone else? Or are you still in love with Lee?"

"I've had to let her go," Jim said. "And since deciding that, there's been no one else. I'd like someone... I do like someone," he amended. "But... It's tricky. I don't know if they could like me back in the same way I like them, and they're a busy person with enough going on in their life. They don't need a fuck-up like me complicating things."

"Jim, don't talk about yourself like that," Oswald reprimanded. "I'm sure anyone would be lucky to have you."

Jim blushed, grateful that Oswald couldn't see it. "I don't know about that," he said. "I'm friends with them though, so at least I have that."

"Yes," Oswald said, sounding subdued.

Jim wanted to kick himself. He had probably just reminded Oswald of Ed, and the unknown state of their own friendship.

"Maybe you should tell her," Oswald said. "Then if she reacts like Ed, we can commiserate together." He tried for a lighter tone, but it sounded a bit strained.

"He, Oswald," Jim corrected, smiling faintly to himself. "The person I like is a man."

"Oh," Oswald said breathlessly.

Jim wondered for a moment if he'd given him too many clues and he'd figured it out. Then he continued speaking.

"Well, my statement still stands. Tell him. If the worst should happen, at least you know you'll have a sympathetic shoulder to cry on," Oswald said. "Oh, but look at the time! I probably woke you up, didn't I? I'm so sorry, my friend. I should let you get back to sleep."

"No, no, don't worry about it," Jim said hurriedly. "I fell asleep on the sofa anyway. You just saved me from waking up with a sore neck in the morning. Besides, I'd rather hear from you now than learn you were miserable on your own all night." He stood up, figuring if their conversation was ending, he should make his way to bed.

"Thank you, old friend. I truly don't know what I would do without you," Oswald replied. Jim could hear the smile in his voice.

"Anytime, Oswald."

"Good night, Jim. Sleep well. In your bed," added Oswald, teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm almost there." Jim successfully navigated his apartment in the dark without tripping over anything or bumping into anything. "Good night, Oswald. I'm sure things will look better in the morning."

Jim hung up the phone and collapsed back on his bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. Shit, he was in deep.

* * *

Jim didn't hear from Oswald at all the next day. He opened up the shop, checking his phone between customers, but there were no texts or missed calls. Finally, after closing up for the day, Jim gave in and texted Oswald while on his way to see Ivy.

 _Are you ok? I'm free if you want to talk._

* * *

Ivy had taken over as much space as she'd been able to manage with three large greenhouses catering to different plants and conditions. Jim had no idea how she'd managed it, wasn't sure if she'd acquired permission legally or not, and almost certainly didn't want to know. Still, it was a much better use for what had previously been just another vacant lot. If that wasn't enough, he also had it on good authority that Ivy's home was also filled to bursting with plants.

Jim had initially wondered at the wisdom of putting the greenhouses up in a rough neighbourhood, but Selina had confided in him that Ivy had earned some sort of reputation during her homeless period. Now no one wanted to mess with the strange plant girl. Jim was sure that the less he knew, the better. The main thing was that Ivy had a legal means of making money these days, so she wasn't growing drugs for the mob and their dealers.

"Hey, Ivy. Good day today?" Jim greeted.

"It's been alright," Ivy replied. "Selina's been helping me repot some of the rose bushes, so we should get more flowers when they grow bigger. White roses are popular lately, yes?"

"Well, we do have a regular order to fill," Jim said. "Mayor Cobblepot asks for them every week, and he's been recommending us to others as well."

"Is that so?" Selina asked. Her fingers were covered in dirt, and her curly hair stuck to her forehead in the humid atmosphere of the greenhouse.

"Yeah, sort of. At least, Bruce Wayne came by again," Jim said.

Selina turned away with an air of nonchalance. "Really. Well. That's nice."

Jim wasn't fooled, but wisely chose to say nothing. "So, where do I get started?" he asked, turning his attention to the plants.

He spent the next couple of hours helping out, trimming dead flowers and leaves off plants, moving pots around and obeying Ivy's every word when it came to plants. She had a natural talent that bordered on supernatural for looking after plants. Jim, who had never had much interest in plants, could never hope to match her knowledge.

Selina noticed him checking his phone often. "Waiting for a message from your boyfriend?" she asked.

Jim turned red. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Don't see why not," she replied. "You like him, right?"

"It's more complicated than that," Jim said. "He loves someone else."

"Oh. Well. But I thought he wasn't with anyone?" she said, frowning.

"Well, no. The person he loves is with someone else," Jim explained, hoping to be able to keep things vague. He didn't want to be airing all of Oswald's private life to the girls.

"So get in there while he's single, duh," Selina said.

Jim frowned. "Selina, he doesn't want to be with me."

"I could make him want you," Ivy said nonchalantly. "Just a sniff of one of my perfumes and he'll do anything you want."

"Ivy, you can't solve all your problems by putting the whammy on people with your perfume," Selina said.

"It's always worked so far," Ivy shrugged.

Jim turned away. "I'm not hearing this," he said. "Ivy, you can't just manipulate people like that, and I definitely won't let you do it to Oswald."

"Hey, I'm just offering," Ivy replied. "When am I ever going to see him anyway? The shop is your domain."

Jim still wasn't entirely happy.

"Hey, it's not something that happens often. Just when guys give her trouble," Selina said quietly to Jim. "And enough of them know by now that she can do that, and that a lot of these plants are actually kinda poisonous, so really, she's fine. We're fine, and she's not going to drug the guy you have a crush on."

"I don't want to think about what would happen if she did," Jim said. "That would be a disaster. He'd never trust me again."

The plants to be sold the next day were moved to the front, where they could be quickly loaded into a van to be taken to the shop in the morning before they opened. When that was done, Jim left Ivy and Selina to do one last check over the greenhouses and headed home.

He didn't get a response from Oswald until later, while he was mulling over which of the takeout cartons in his fridge were still safe to eat. He wasn't entirely prepared to hear Oswald sounding so happy compared to the tearful phone call the night before.

"Jim, old friend! Everything is wonderful! Well, mostly," Oswald admitted. "Things are a little strained between Ed and I, but I'm confident we'll work through it. I take back everything awful I ever said and thought about Isabella. She talked to him last night, calmed him down, helped him understand."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oswald Cobblepot?" Jim joked. "You sound like a pod person."

"Oh, I'm just so happy that I'm not losing Ed after all. I wouldn't be where I am today without his help, and I don't think I could continue without him," Oswald said.

"Good. I'm glad you've not lost that friendship," Jim said honestly.

"Of course, I'm grateful that you're my friend too, Jim," Oswald added. "Please, don't think that I'm not."

"You're a good friend to me too, Oswald,"Jim replied, smiling.

"Oh, I have to go. Mayoral duties tomorrow that I have to prepare for. Ed's a marvelous help, of course, but I must still rehearse my speech for the hospital fundraiser. I'll come by tomorrow for the flowers for my parents," Oswald said.

"Of course, I'll have them ready for you," Jim said.

They rang off, and Jim ignored the heaviness in his heart. He was glad that Oswald was happy, but wished that he would stop feeling so strongly for Ed. Ed didn't love him, and Jim... Well, Jim wouldn't call it love, not yet, but he was certainly becoming more and more fond of Oswald. Ordinarily, he would say something, make a move, but Oswald still being attached to Ed made matters more complicated. Oswald didn't feel anything for him except friendship, and Jim would have to be satisfied with that. He didn't have to hear Oswald's rejection in order to know that's what would happen.

 _"I'm sorry, old friend, but you know I'm still in love with Ed. It would never work between us."_

He clutched his phone, and told himself to be happy with Oswald's friendship.

* * *

Things seemed to settle after that. Though the relationship between Oswald and Ed was still somewhat stiffer than it had been, Oswald had relented a bit in his absolute dislike of Isabella.

Oswald resumed texting little updates to Jim, and Jim would reply with the latest updates from the shop, or from Ivy and her greenhouses. Bruce Wayne was becoming a more regular customer as the weeks passed, at least while Selina was also in the shop, and he seemed to have a crush on her in his odd, stoic way. Selina pretended she didn't care, but Jim would catch her smiling more after he'd been in.

 _Ah, young love. I certainly hope they're more successful than I was at that age._

 _I'm sure you were a heartbreaker._

 _Really, Jim! I have never been a heartbreaker, unless you count the times my mother accused me of breaking her heart when I got detention for retaliating against school bullies, or when she accused me of abandoning her for the company of painted ladies._

 _She didn't like you bringing boyfriends or girlfriends home?_

 _What boyfriends? I've never dated, girls or boys. There was never anyone to bring home._

 _Didn't you ever want to date?_

 _Not seriously. Not until recently._

Not until Ed, Jim supposed he meant, and look at how badly that had turned out. As much as Jim wanted Oswald to notice him, he also wished that his first experience of romantic love had turned out better.

"Are you going to pine after him forever?" Selina asked. "Because it's getting kind of pathetic."

"I'm not pining," Jim protested.

"Right. Because you were never so attached to that phone before he started texting you, and you always open the shop on Saturdays now just so you can see him. You get this stupid dopey look when you're thinking of him as well." She stared him down, hands on her hips. "Tell him, or get over it or something. Go out and get laid or something."

"Selina!" Jim clutched his phone tightly.

"Ugh. Fine, I'll leave you alone, but think about what I said, alright? If you're not attached to this guy, then there's no reason you can't go out to a club one night and hook up." Selina threw her hands up and walked off.

Jim didn't think a one night stand was going to help, but Selina did have a point. Allowing his feelings for Oswald to develop further was pointless. So Jim resolved that he was going to get over his crush. They would be friends, nothing more.

Two days later, Oswald walked into the shop, looking worried and apologetic.

"Jim, old friend, I'm afraid I've done something rather silly," Oswald said, limping forward.

"Oswald? What's wrong?" Jim came around the counter to greet him.

"I'm afraid I need... Well, if you say no, of course I'll understand and I'm sure things will work out, but I... Well, I find myself in a bit of an awkward situation and I would appreciate your help."

Jim frowned. "Anything you need, Oswald. What's going on?"

Oswald opened his mouth, then hesitated. "First of all, I want to apologise for putting you in this position," he said. "I... well, Ed and Isabella saw me texting, and when they asked who, I said of course that I was talking with my good friend... but it seems they misheard me, and they think you're my boyfriend."

Jim stared. Boyfriend. They thought he and Oswald were dating? "They... what?"

"I tried to explain, but they wouldn't hear it," Oswald said, blinking innocent blue eyes up at Jim.

"So you want me to set them straight?" Jim asked. It would be awkward, sure, but he would do it if Oswald asked.

Oswald shook his head slightly. "No, no, I'm afraid they wouldn't listen. I... well, they want to have dinner with us, at the mansion," Oswald said. He gazed imploringly at Jim. "So what I mean to ask is, will you pretend to be my boyfriend?"


	2. Pink Roses

Jim froze. Pretend? His first impulse was to agree. What harm could one fake date do? He would just have to sit and make nice with the man Oswald was actually in love with and the woman he was learning not to utterly despise.

Oswald's face fell as Jim hesitated. "Of course, I completely understand if you don't want to. I can explain that we broke up or that you're simply too busy or-or-"

"I'll do it," Jim said, even as he questioned his own sanity.

Oswald paused, blinked in surprise and then beamed at him. "Excellent! I'll send a car to collect you at seven on Friday. Dinner will be served at eight. Wear something smart, but nothing you're uncomfortable in. Don't bring wine, I have plenty."

"Okay," Jim said, feeling dazed.

Oswald lunged forward to grasp Jim's arm. "Thank you, Jim. This means more to me than you know."

He hurried out of the shop, pausing in the doorway to smile back at Jim, who returned it easily. He had a date with Oswald. A fake date, but still a date.

Selina cleared her throat behind him. He'd forgotten that she was in the shop, making bouquets in the back room. He took one look at her and knew she'd overheard the whole thing.

"I know. I'm pathetic," Jim sighed.

Selina rolled her eyes at him. "No, you've sunk way below pathetic now."

Jim spent the rest of the week thinking about his upcoming fake date with Oswald. He still had shirts and trousers that weren't stained with mud and plants, so he was sure he had something passable to wear, but he would still look plain next to Oswald.

He hadn't worried this much before his first ever date, or any date since. But then, those dates had been real and with people of significantly less importance than the Mayor of Gotham. Neither had those dates been double dates either. He felt somehow that he had to impress Oswald's friends as well as Oswald himself.

Jim ended up calling on Selina for help preparing for his date with Oswald. She sighed and shook her head at the state of his wardrobe, but picked out a white shirt and a blue tie for him to wear, along with a blue jacket.

She also gave her approval on his choice of gift. Oswald had said not to bring wine, but Jim didn't want to turn up empty-handed. If he'd been dating a woman, he would bring flowers, and saw no reason to treat Oswald any differently. The only change was that Ivy insisted he take one of the potted plants that would flower longer, rather than a bouquet that would wither in a few days. He'd opted against roses as being too cliche and had instead taken some red and white variegated tulips.

Now, walking up the steps to the front door of Oswald's mansion, he wished he'd chosen something else. Tulips seemed rather plain and ordinary, not fitting in with anything else in the mansion. Sort of like him, he supposed, as he was admitted by one of Oswald's staff.

The man who'd let him in led Jim to an empty parlour.

"Please wait here. I will inform Mayor Cobblepot you've arrived," he said, leaving Jim alone.

Jim took the opportunity to have a look around. He was pretty sure that the contents of the room probably cost more than his entire apartment. There was a clear space on an end table, so he put the tulips down and wandered the edges of the room. There was a painting of a man who Jim supposed must have been Oswald's father.

Then his attention was caught by two other frames. Placed side by side on the mantle above the fire were certificates from Arkham Asylum, declaring both Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma to be sane and permitted to leave the asylum as free men. Oswald had talked about their certificates before, but he hadn't mentioned that he'd had them framed and put on display. The gesture just seemed so entirely Oswald that Jim couldn't help but smile.

The click of heeled shoes in the hallway caught Jim's attention. He turned as a blonde woman in a modest, cream coloured dress entered. She smiled warmly when she saw him.

"Jim Gordon, right?" she said. "I'm Isabella Flynn."

She was pretty, in a very neat and controlled sort of way. Not a hair out of place, not a single crease in her dress. Jim could see why Edward would be attracted to her, though he would never admit that to Oswald.

He returned her smile with one of his own. "Yes, that's me. It's good to meet you at last. Oswald has told me about you."

"Nothing good, I bet," Isabella replied with a rueful twist of her lips. "I know how he feels about me."

Jim shook his head. "Honestly, I believe he's warming up to you. He just needed time to get used to you."

"You think so?" she asked, a little hopefully. "That's good." She gestured to the tulips on the table. "Did you bring those? Tulips are an unusual choice for a date, aren't they?"

"When I learned what variegated tulips mean, I thought of Oswald," Jim explained to her, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"And what do they mean?" asked Oswald from the doorway.

Jim and Isabella turned to see that he had somehow sneaked up on them. The tall figure of Edward Nygma lurked just behind him, watching Jim curiously.

"They mean 'you have beautiful eyes'," Jim said, blushing darker as he held eye contact with Oswald.

"Oh…" Oswald said breathlessly, flushing pink. That shade was quickly becoming Jim's favourite colour. "Thank you."

"So you're Jim Gordon," Edward said, holding out his hand for Jim to shake.

"And you're Edward Nygma," Jim replied, accepting the handshake. "I was just telling Isabella that I've heard a lot about you both from Oswald."

"A shame we can't say the same. Oswald has barely mentioned you," Edward said, a little stiffly.

"There's not much to tell," Jim said, flashing a tight smile. He was grateful when Oswald stepped closer to him, and took advantage of it to slide an arm around his waist. "You look good tonight," he murmured, aware of their audience.

Oswald's pink cheeks darkened to red. "So do you."

Jim wanted to kiss him, but wasn't sure how well received that would be. It would be so easy, with Oswald so close, but they'd never done that before. They hadn't even talked about it. Perhaps Jim should have asked, even if it would have been awkward to do so.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't we go through to the dining room and get to know each other?" Isabella suggested, drawing them out of their little world.

"An excellent idea," Oswald said. He stepped away from Jim's embrace, but took his arm by the elbow. "This way, Jim."

Jim let himself be led along, taking in the antique ornaments and wood panelling in the corridors. The dining room was far fancier than even the best restaurant that Jim had ever taken his past girlfriends to. The long table was set for four at one end for a more intimate arrangement, two people on each side, though there was enough food set out for what looked like a small army. The cook, an older blonde woman in a black and white uniform, finished setting out the last of the dishes and left.

Edward and Isabella took seats on one side, leaving the other seats for Oswald and Jim.

"Thank you, Olga," Oswald said as the cook left the room. "Well, let's eat." He made a grand gesture to indicate that they should help themselves. Jim wasn't sure where to start until Oswald offered him a dish of roast beef. While they helped themselves, Oswald poured wine from one of several that were on hand. Jim wondered how much he intended to get through tonight.

"This place is pretty amazing," Jim said, making conversation as they started to eat.

"It was my father's house. I've kept it exactly as he had it since he passed away," Oswald said. "It's quite a change from the apartment building I grew up in."

"Yeah," Jim murmured in agreement, looking around. "I guess it would be."

"Where did you grow up, Jim?" asked Ed, leaning his elbows on the table. "We really don't know anything about you."

Something about Ed's attention unnerved Jim. He felt like prey, and it immediately made him feel defensive. "My family had a house in the suburbs, where I grew up until I went to college," Jim replied. "Then I moved into the city until I joined the military."

"You were a soldier?" Isabella asked.

Jim nodded. "Yeah, four tours before I left."

"So how does one go from soldier to florist?" Ed asked. "That's quite the leap."

Jim shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. He glanced at Oswald for some support, and receiving an encouraging smile. "Well, I joined the GCPD for a while. It didn't work out, but I met some homeless kids when I was working there. After I left, I ran into two of them again, Selina and Ivy. They needed help, they were in some kind of trouble, and I helped them out. They wanted... well, they wanted safety, and to not get sent upstate like the rest of the kids rounded up by the previous mayor's scheme."

The look on Jim's face let them know exactly what he thought of that. It was one of the things he hadn't liked about Mayor James. It was just sweeping the problem under a rug. If you didn't see homeless kids, then there weren't any, and never mind that they would only turn to crime to survive because they didn't have any other choice.

"So how does that lead to a flower shop called Poison Ivy?" Ed asked. "I guess the name came from Ivy herself? Because why would anyone name their shop after a plant that causes rashes?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, that's right. She's really good with plants, obsessed really, so I thought she might make a living out of it, and somehow that ended up with floristry classes at the local college and starting our own business. Now Ivy spends all day in her greenhouses, while Selina and I man the store and help her out."

"That's really sweet," Isabella said.

"I just wanted to help," Jim said, looking away. "They're good girls at heart, but they've been through some rough stuff, had to make bad decisions, do bad things. It's not their fault they're the victims of a bad situation."

"You love those girls, huh?" Edward said.

"They're like family," Jim replied, smiling fondly. "I'm not close to my actual relations, but those girls are like little sisters to me."

There was a gentle touch at his hand, and Jim looked down to see Oswald entwining his fingers with Jim's. "I think it's wonderful. I'm sure you're a very good influence on them."

Jim tried not to think of Selina deliberately shortchanging rude customers or Ivy manipulating people with her perfumes. "I try," he said.

The food was really good. Jim couldn't remember the last time he had had such a delicious meal. As they ate and drank plenty of wine to wash it all down, the conversation turned to Edward and Isabella's first meeting, and from there to riddles.

"What's everywhere, except where something is?" Edward asked Jim, leaning forwards.

Jim took a moment to think. "Nothing," he answered.

Edward sat back, looking delighted. "Correct!"

"I've got one," Isabella said. "Towns without people, beaches without sand, forests without trees, mountains without land. What am I?"

Jim frowned, thinking it over. He glanced at Oswald, who shrugged, not looking particularly interested. "Mountains without... Oh," Jim said to himself. "A map?"

"Yes!" Isabella clapped. "Your turn, Jim."

"Oh, uh... I don't really know any riddles," Jim said, holding his hands up.

"Surely you know one or two," Edward said.

Oswald cleared his throat. "I think it's time for dessert now, don't you?"

Jim looked at him guiltily. "Dessert sounds wonderful," he said with a smile. "I don't think I've eaten this well in years."

"Olga is a terrific cook," Edward agreed.

"I'll let her know to bring it in," Oswald said, standing up. He left the room, stiff-backed and limping more heavily without his cane.

Jim watched him leave the room, concerned.

"Oh dear," Edward said.

"Did we upset him?" asked Isabella worriedly.

"I'll go after him," Jim said, pushing his chair back. He hurried out of the room after Oswald, hoping he wasn't going to get lost in the corridors. However, the dining room wasn't far from the kitchen, and he caught up with Oswald as he was coming back.

"Jim. Dessert won't be long," Oswald said. He seemed closed off, not meeting Jim's eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" Jim asked, reaching for Oswald's arm.

Oswald avoided him, and Jim knew he'd upset him. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Jim said. "Is this because I get along with Isabella? Are you… jealous?"

Oswald didn't reply immediately, and Jim figured he'd reached the issue.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm not about to abandon you for her," Jim said. "Ever. You're the reason I'm here tonight." He stepped close to Oswald, putting his hands on his shoulders. He didn't let Oswald shrug him off, but pulled him into a hug instead. As far as everyone else was concerned, they were dating, so it wouldn't seem strange if anyone came to find them.

After a moment, Oswald's arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace. "Stop getting on with her. She's a nuisance," he mumbled into Jim's shoulder. "And no more riddles."

"No more riddles," Jim agreed. "You don't need to be jealous, you know. I much prefer you."

Oswald didn't reply, but tightened his hold.

Jim was more than content to hold him for as long as he wanted, breathing in the scent of his aftershave and the product in his hair and enjoying the warm solidness of another body against his. It had been a long time since he had been close to anyone he had feelings for. Perhaps after their fake relationship had ended, they would still do things like this, but Jim wouldn't let himself hope.

After a long moment, Oswald drew back.

"We're okay, right?" Jim asked.

Oswald nodded, finally looking up. He smiled bashfully as he met Jim's gaze. "I know I'm being silly," he said. "But.."

"But last time she met someone important to you, they started dating her," Jim finished. He was struck by the urge to kiss Oswald again, to reassure him in that way that he wasn't about to leave their friendship in order to form a new friendship with Isabella. It would be easy. He was still so close, and nobody who could have caught them would have thought it strange for them to be kissing in a quiet corridor. But Oswald would. They were only pretending to date, and without an audience, why would they keep up the pretence?

"We should get back before Ed and Isabella come looking for us," Oswald said, stepping away.

"Yeah," Jim replied, trying not to feel as though he had just wasted an opportunity. He fell into step beside Oswald, and reached to entwine their fingers loosely. Oswald glanced at him in surprise, then smiled and tightened his grip. They walked back into the dining room like that, only letting go when they took their seats again.

"Dessert will be along shortly," Oswald said, smiling much more amiably. "More wine?" He reached for the bottle to top up their glasses. They'd already gone through a bottle between them, but Oswald had made sure that there were plenty on hand throughout the night.

Olga brought in their desserts, individual cakes with mirror glazing and topped with fruit. Isabella was wide-eyed at the sight, and Jim had to admit that he was impressed too.

"They look too good to eat," Isabella said, holding her spoon hesitantly over hers.

"But then you'll miss the delicious taste," Edward said. He didn't hesitate to break some of his own off and offer it to her. "Try some."

Isabella blushed prettily and accepted the bite, giggling.

While she and Edward were lost in their own little world, Jim and Oswald exchanged glances with raised eyebrows.

"You see what I put up with?" Oswald mouthed at Jim.

Jim gave a slight nod. "I'm not feeding you. I'll spill it all over your suit," he whispered, leaning over towards Oswald.

Oswald only smiled and took a bite of his own cake.

As the night progressed and more wine was drunk, Jim found himself becoming closer to Oswald. They eventually left the dining room and retired to the parlour again. Jim thought nothing of sitting beside Oswald on the sofa, pressed up against him comfortably. Oswald didn't seem to mind either, smiling freely as Isabella told an anecdote from her days as a librarian in training.

"So in the end, I stayed late to sort and re-shelve all the books, because he'd decided to use his own nonsensical system, and the other librarians found me in the morning, fast asleep on a pile of philosophy books." Isabella paused to take a sip of her wine. "And that is how I ended up memorising the entire Dewey Decimal System in a night."

"What did they do?" asked Edward.

"Bought me breakfast and sent me home," Isabella said. "They were really nice about it actually."

Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed midnight.

Jim sat up, glancing at his watch. "I should be going. I'm opening the shop in the morning," he said.

"You could stay, have my driver take you home in the morning," Oswald said, resting a hand on his leg.

Jim shook his head. "No, no, I don't want to disturb you when I get up. Better if I go now. I can call a cab," he said, pulling his phone out. "Besides, I have a regular customer who comes every Saturday for flowers for his parents. I have to make sure they're ready for him." He grinned, and kissed Oswald on the cheek without thinking.

Oswald blushed, looking pleased. "Oh. Well, in that case. I wouldn't want to keep you from such important work."

"It was nice meeting you," Jim said to Edward and Isabella as he stood up. He left the room, calling the cab company as he went.

Oswald walked with Jim through the house. "Thank you for coming," he said when they were alone and out of earshot of Edward and Isabella. They reached the entrance hall, where they would be able to see when the cab arrived.

"I had a good time. I've never done a double date before," Jim said. "I thought it would be more awkward, but I guess the wine helped with that."

Oswald laughed softly. "Well, I have plenty. Don't know why I agreed to let Ed get some that night…" He trailed off with a sigh.

"I'm glad he did," Jim said suddenly, alcohol loosening his tongue. "We would never have met otherwise."

Oswald turned to him, gaping slightly. His cheeks coloured. "Well. Yes. Now that you mention it, I'm glad he did too. I'm… glad he met Isabella. I have you now, after all. And… it's nice to see him happy."

"Still hurts though, huh?" Jim murmured.

"Not as much," Oswald admitted just as quietly. "Which is in part thanks to you."

Headlights shone through the windows of the entrance hall, signalling the arrival of Jim's cab.

"Walk me out to the car?" he asked.

"Of course, of course," Oswald agreed eagerly.

Once the front door was shut behind them, Jim glanced about. "Did we convince them, do you think?" he asked quietly.

"Possibly," Oswald said. They walked away from the house, to where the cab was waiting a little further down the drive after turning around. "You know, we'll have to plan a few more dates to make this look real," Oswald said. "I can cover any costs and compensate you for your time, of course."

"That's nonsense, for a lot of reasons," Jim said. "Firstly, I don't need compensating to spend time with you. Secondly, I'm not going to be your kept man or whatever."

Oswald froze, looking uncertain. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend."

"It's fine," Jim said, shrugging. "But we should talk about how long this will go on for."

"I thought a month, perhaps two?" Oswald suggested. "Then say that we gave it a shot, but we're better off as friends."

Jim strove to keep a neutral expression. Two months of dating Oswald, pretending that playing the loving boyfriend was just a ruse for Edward, Isabella and anyone else Oswald felt they had to convince. It was going to hurt when it ended, but then, he had always known that from the start.

Outwardly, he nodded. "Alright."

"Then… dinner, next week? Just the two of us. I thought perhaps a restaurant? I know of several where the staff will be discreet," Oswald suggested.

"Sounds good," Jim agreed.

"Then I'll call you," Oswald said. "Have a good night." He turned to walk back inside.

Jim caught his arm impulsively. "Hold on, we're forgetting one of the most important parts of dating," he said. If pressed, he would blame the wine for what followed.

"What do you mean?" Oswald asked, turning back.

"This," Jim said, and kissed him. He had one hand running through the back of Oswald's hair, messing up his hairstyle unrepentantly, and the other at his waist, pulling him closer.

Oswald let out a startled noise, but didn't pull away. After a moment, he put his own arms around Jim and kissed back. It was clumsy, and inexperienced and Jim wanted more. He pressed impossibly closer, drawing a moan from Oswald. The sound shot straight to Jim's cock, and he reluctantly pulled back before Oswald could find out just how into it Jim was.

"Was that alright?" he asked. "I don't know if you've kissed anyone before, but I wanted it to be good."

Oswald looked a little dazed, wet lips still parted slightly. He nodded silently, shocked into silence. "You succeeded," he said faintly.

Jim smiled widely, unable to contain it. "I'll see you later then," he said. He stepped away and got into the cab. "Goodnight, Oswald."

Oswald nodded. "I'll see you," he echoed. Seeming to recover himself a bit, he added, "Have a safe journey home."

Jim smiled. As the cab pulled away, he turned back to see Oswald. He was still standing where Jim had left him, one hand raised to his mouth.

Smiling in satisfaction, Jim turned back to the front. The date may not have been real, but for Jim, the kiss had been. He'd meant all the feeling he'd put into it. If it was going to be the only chance he got to kiss Oswald, he figured he should make it count.

Of course, the thought that it didn't really mean anything to Oswald soured things a bit. Their date had simply been because his friends wouldn't accept that they'd misheard him. He'd known others like that, who had simply wanted everyone else in their lives paired up as blissfully as they were. Now that Ed was happy with Isabella, he probably wanted Oswald to find someone else, so he could stop pining over him. Now he thought Jim was that someone else.

Jim went to bed thinking back over the date, and wondered if he and Oswald would have more fake dates. Surely one wouldn't be enough.

This could only end badly for him, but right now Jim didn't care.

Jim sat behind the counter, a large cup of coffee from his favourite coffee shop by his elbow. He wished he'd bought two because one wasn't going to be enough. Maybe Selina could be persuaded to bring him another when she came in later. Deciding it couldn't hurt to ask, he fired off a quick text to her.

Oswald was late, but Jim wasn't too surprised about that after the late night they'd had. Jim hadn't had much sleep after getting home at nearly one o'clock, because he couldn't stop going over every part of their double date and especially the kiss at the end, and he had no idea what time Oswald had finally gone to bed. Still, a part of him was worried that he'd made Oswald too uncomfortable to come see him after that kiss. Jim could still see the way Oswald had looked when they had parted, the surprise on his face.

When the shop door finally opened, Jim jerked and nearly knocked over his coffee.

"Falling asleep on the job? Oh dear. Perhaps you need more sleep, old friend," Oswald teased.

"I had a hot date. It was worth losing some sleep over," Jim replied, grinning.

Oswald blushed, grinning conspiratorially. "Our ruse was a success," he said. "And Ed has cleared my schedule next Thursday, so that we might go out to The Peacock for dinner next week. If that's okay, of course."

"Sounds good," Jim replied, suppressing a wince. Of course Oswald would want to go somewhere expensive like The Peacock. Jim's wallet wouldn't thank him for this, but he couldn't say no to Oswald.

As Oswald was running late, he couldn't stay long, so Jim gave him the usual bunches of white roses and lilies that he'd prepared when he got to the store that morning. Oswald thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and promised to call him later.

Just as Oswald was leaving, the door opened again. Selina was early for work for once, carrying a tray of coffee cups from the local cafe. She froze upon seeing Oswald, then Ivy, following close behind with a carrier bag from the same cafe, bumped into her.

"Oh."

"Hi, Selina," Jim greeted. "Ivy."

"Jim," Selina greeted, recovering from her surprise. "We brought coffee and food. Thought you could use it. If we'd known Mayor Cobblepot was still here, we'd have brought extra." She flashed a smile at Oswald, who had a rather fixed expression on his face.

"Don't worry about it, I was just leaving," Oswald said. "Jim, I'll call you later." He left quickly, not looking back.

"What was that about?" Jim asked, baffled by the sudden change in atmosphere.

"I used to work for someone he also worked for, back in his mob days, then later I worked for him. Sort of," Selina said. "Before he was sent to Arkham, that is. Word is he completely changed after getting out of there, but I only heard rumours. We were getting this place sorted out at the time, so I wasn't keeping up with my usual sources."

"Oh." It was the first time in a while that Selina had talked about her past on the streets, and she hadn't mentioned working for anyone. Jim had assumed she worked alone, but it made sense for others to want to make use of her skills as a thief.

"I sort of worked for him too," Ivy said. "Indirectly, though. Cousin of his right hand man for a time. I've never seen him face to face before." She paused, looking out of the door as though she could still see him. "He's sort of cute, I guess?"

Selina put the coffee cups down on the counter. "Latte for me, green tea for Ivy and an extra large cup of coffee with an extra shot of espresso for our resident lovesick idiot."

"Hey!" Jim protested.

"We also brought danishes and donuts," Ivy said, handing Jim the carrier bag. "Take your pick, but I want the strawberry danish."

"Are we not going to talk about the fact that you worked for Oswald when he was a gangster?" Jim asked.

"Nope," Selina said. She hoisted herself up to sit on the counter. "It's in the past, we're not doing that anymore."

"Move on," Ivy advised. "And tell us all about last night."

Suddenly Jim understood why they were early and why Ivy had let herself be pried away from her greenhouses. "You just want gossip," he accused.

"Yep. So spill," Selina said, sipping her latte. "We need to know everything."

"What did he think of the tulips?" Ivy asked. "Did you tell him what they mean?"

Jim gave in. He moved around the counter to sit back on the stool while he picked out a pastry to eat. "Yeah, I gave him the tulips, and I told him the meaning." He found an iced donut and handed the bag back to the girls.

"And what did he say?" Ivy asked, leaning her elbows on the counter.

"He liked them," Jim said, taking a bite of his donut. "He blushed when I told him what they mean."

The girls questioned him on everything that had happened between bites of food. They exchanged looks when Jim described Oswald's jealousy over Jim getting along with Isabella, and giggled when they heard he'd run out to reassure him. They giggled again when Jim got up to the goodnight kiss, and comforted him over the terms of the charade between himself and Oswald.

"You know what?" Selina said. "You should use this opportunity to show him you'd be the best boyfriend. Seriously."

"Yeah," Ivy agreed. "You could win him over, so he forgets Edward and falls for you instead."

Jim looked away, trying not to hope. He'd met Edward now. He knew what Oswald liked, and he wasn't it. "You think I could?"

"Absolutely! I bet you're way better than the other guy," Ivy said. "Plus, you're… not ugly." She waved a bit of her strawberry danish vaguely at his face.

"And you've never murdered anyone," added Selina brightly.

Jim gave them an offended look. "With such ringing endorsements, it's a wonder the whole city isn't flinging themselves at me."

"Hey, in this city, not being a murderer counts for a lot," Selina said.

"And how come I get called just 'not ugly' while Oswald's 'kind of cute'?" Jim asked, frowning at Ivy.

Ivy shrugged. "You're sort of like I'd expect a big brother to be," she said. "It would be weird to think of you as hot."

"Yeah," Selina agreed.

"But 'not ugly' was the best you could come up with?" Jim said, giving her a comically hurt look. "That hurts, Ivy." He did understand, though. While he loved both of them like sisters, he did notice they were pretty. It was just strange to acknowledge it.

"Fine. You're the prettiest guy in the city. Happy now?" Selina leaned over and pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek, grinning as she pulled back.

Jim sighed. "I give up." He wiped at his cheek, then did it again. "You've left your lip gloss smeared all over me, haven't you?"

The girls giggled while he rubbed it off, muttering about how it was a good thing Selina wore clear lip gloss. After they'd finished their drinks, Selina insisted that Jim go home early to get some proper rest. He protested, but given that he yawned at the same time, Ivy overruled him and pushed him out the door.

Thursday came, and Jim caught a cab to The Peacock. He was just as nervous as he had been going to Oswald's mansion for dinner, but tried not to let it show. He was a little late, thanks to traffic, and hoped Oswald wasn't going to be too upset with him.

Oswald was already waiting at their table when he arrived. If Jim didn't know better, he would think he was also nervous, given the way he fidgeted with his napkin until he saw Jim. Then his mouth spread into a wide, welcoming smile and he jumped to his feet.

"Jim, I'm so glad you could make it," he said.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Jim said. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long." He pressed a kiss to Oswald's cheek in greeting.

Oswald turned pink.

"That was okay, wasn't it?" Jim asked quietly, so he couldn't be overheard.

Oswald nodded, a shy, pleased smile crossing his face. "I simply wasn't expecting it. But it's okay."

Oswald had secured them a table in a more secluded corner, which Jim was thankful for. He didn't want people watching him, speculating about his relationship with Oswald while he ate. The Mayor cut a distinctive figure, and everyone must have seen him come in, waiting for his date. He probably wasn't what they had expected.

"How was work?" Oswald asked politely once they were seated.

"It was fine. We got an order in to provide flowers for the Wayne Enterprises event next month, and they want irises for every table. Ivy thinks she'll have to expand the greenhouses, or get another one to cover our sudden demand. I think we might need to source some from elsewhere. We have some growing, but I don't think we'll have enough ready in time," Jim said.

"That's wonderful," Oswald said. "I'm glad things are going well for you."

Their waiter arrived with a bottle of red wine. Jim didn't recognise the label, but figured it must be expensive.

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering drinks before you arrived," Oswald said.

"Not at all," Jim said. He opened his menu. "I've never eaten here before. Have you?"

"Occasionally," Oswald replied, opening his own menu. "I'm particularly fond of the sea bass, if you're looking for recommendations, but the steak will go better with the wine."

"Okay." Jim glanced at the menu to find the steak, and tried not to react to the price.

Something must have shown on his face though, because Oswald said, "Relax, Jim. This is my treat. I am, after all, putting you in an awkward position."

Jim frowned, closing his menu. "Fine," he said. "But the next date is on me."

"Very well. What are we doing next time?" Oswald asked.

Jim frowned. "I don't know yet. I'll let you know when I think of something.

If Jim had thought a second fake date in a public setting would be awkward, he was mistaken. He enjoyed Oswald's company, and they spent hours talking in the restaurant over starters, main courses and desserts. At the end of the night, when the restaurant was closing and they were leaving, Jim let Oswald pay and take him home. They'd shared a couple of bottles of wine between them, and were feeling the effects, so it was easy for him to almost forget that their relationship was still being faked.

Just before Jim got out of the car outside his apartment, he found himself pulled backwards by a tipsy Oswald.

"No kiss goodbye?" he pouted.

Jim turned back. "I knew I was forgetting something," he said lowly, turning back. He pressed Oswald back into the corner between the leather seat and the car door and slotted his mouth against Oswald's. His tongue swiped against Oswald's lips, prompting a gasp from the other man. Oswald's hands grasped his jacket sleeves tightly, and when his legs shifted apart, Jim slid easily into the space created.

Oswald moaned, pulling at Jim's clothes, pulling him closer. He bucked his hips upwards, and Jim couldn't mistake Oswald's interest in him.

They parted, flushed and panting. Oswald's pupils were blown wide.

"I should go," Jim said, telling himself firmly that Oswald was drunk, and doing more would lead to serious regrets in the morning.

Oswald nodded. It was another moment before he released his grip on Jim's jacket sleeves, though.

"I'll call you about the next date," Jim said, doing his best to seem calm and in control. There was nothing he wanted more than to crawl back on top of Oswald and peel off that damned suit, but they didn't have that kind of relationship. Everything romantic or sexual between them was fake. All Jim really could lay claim to was his friendship.

"Okay. I'll warn Ed to make sure my schedule is clear," Oswald said. He shifted, sitting up and straightening his clothes. "Until next time."

Jim climbed out the car and watched it pull away from the curb. Then he went inside and didn't even make it to his bedroom before giving to the urge to slide his hand into his trousers.

A few days later, Jim waited in a little cafe across the road from the museum where he'd texted Oswald to meet him. He'd ordered a coffee while he waited and sipped it nervously while watching the street outside. After the fancy dinner at the mansion and the extravagant restaurant, going to the museum seemed like it might not be fancy enough for Oswald, but they'd added a planetarium a couple of years ago and Jim had been looking for an excuse to check it out. Selina had approved at least, telling him that if Oswald had never dated before, then he'd missed out on normal dates, and besides, if the planetarium didn't interest him, then there were plenty of other exhibits to see.

He couldn't miss Oswald's car when it pulled up outside, or the driver who got out to open the doors for him. He waved when he saw Oswald looking around for him, getting up to meet him outside.

"Hey," Jim greeted, trying not to read so much into the way Oswald lit up when he saw him. They were friends, so it was natural that Oswald would be happy to see him. Jim just wished he could also ignore the way his own heart skipped a beat at the sight of Oswald.

"Jim, it's good to see you," Oswald said, reaching for Jim to rest a hand on his arm. "Shall we?" He indicated the museum across the road.

"One thing first," Jim said. "I brought you something." He took the plastic box containing a boutonniere out of his pocket. "I made it for you. May I?"

"It's lovely," Oswald said, adjusting his stance to allow Jim to pin it to his lapel. "What does this flower mean?"

"It's a cymbidium orchid," Jim said, carefully pinning it in place. "It means luxury and magnificence." He gently rearranged the curls of thin ribbons and stiff wire around the flower, so they weren't being bent in any way. "I know a boutonniere is a bit formal for a date like this, but it doesn't look out of place on you, and it's easier than bringing you a bunch of flowers."

Oswald delicately touched the purple petals. "You didn't have to bring me anything, you know, but I do like it."

"I wanted to." Jim shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Come on, the planetarium show will start soon."

He needn't have worried over whether Oswald would like going to the planetarium. In the dim lighting, Jim could see the enjoyment on his face. When they stumbled out of the show half an hour later, Oswald turned to him with an awed smile.

"That was fascinating. I've never thought much about the night sky before, but then you don't see it so well here in the city," he said.

"My family has a cabin in the woods, you know," Jim said. "If you want to get out of the city and stargaze for real sometime, I could take you. There are some good spots close by."

"That sounds lovely. I might just have to take you up on that," Oswald replied, smile growing.

"Shall we look around the rest of the museum?" Jim asked. "I don't think I've been here since I was in school on a trip. Things have probably changed a bit."

Oswald nodded eagerly. "Yes, I'd love to. I admit, I've not found the time to visit here in years either."

They passed the afternoon wandering from exhibit to exhibit, sharing opinions and swapping stories. They sat in the museum cafe with drinks when Oswald needed to rest his leg, and Jim learned that though Oswald had always preferred tea, he was developing an appreciation for coffee's ability to perk him up first thing in the morning or after a particularly dry meeting.

"I've always preferred coffee myself," Jim admitted.

"Of course," Oswald said. "I'll bet you'll drink any kind of coffee, especially the terrible stuff from vending machines."

Jim laughed ruefully. "You got me. But I just don't enjoy tea."

"You just haven't been drinking the right tea," Oswald said dismissively. "Next time you come to the mansion, I'll make you a proper pot of tea."

"Then I'll have to introduce you to the best coffee in the city," Jim replied.

When they finally left the museum, Jim found himself feeling incredibly reluctant to part from Oswald. He accepted Oswald's offer of a ride home when his driver came to pick him up, and hesitated before getting out of the car when they pulled up in front of his building.

"I had a really good time today," Oswald said. "I'd forgotten how much I used to love going to the museum."

"Me too," Jim replied. Impulsively, he leaned over and gave Oswald a gentle kiss. "You'll call me, yeah?" he murmured.

"Yes, of course," Oswald replied breathily, eyes wide. There was a dusting of pink across his cheeks.

Jim exited the car, feeling a lot more confident in his chances.

The confident feeling didn't last. The more Jim thought about the way he'd kissed Oswald, the more he wondered if he hadn't gone too far. It hadn't been a real date, no matter that it had felt like one. They were just two friends, pretending to be more and if the people they needed to fool weren't there, then why should they bother with kissing, or holding hands or any of the other little displays of affection they could get away with in public?

Oswald hadn't brought it up when he'd called the next day. Instead, they talked about how Edward and Isabella were so pleased that their relationship was going so well and the meetings Oswald had endured, the customers Jim had served, and pretty much everything else except their last date. They did, however, make plans for the next one.

Jim started to notice a pattern when it came to Oswald's dates. While Jim kept things simpler, and considerably more affordable, Oswald seemed to like to spend money on Jim. As much as Jim tried to tell him it wasn't necessary, Oswald still insisted on taking him out to places and events Jim wouldn't have considered on his own. There were more expensive restaurants and, following an unusual date to a tailors, a night at the opera. Oswald sent him appropriate clothes to wear, along with a note informing him that he needed more culture in his life and when to expect to be picked up.

Jim wasn't sure how much he'd like the opera, but he knew he liked the approving look Oswald gave him when he was picked up that night. The style of the suit wasn't too far removed from what he would normally wear, but the quality and fit was much better than anything he would have bought himself.

"You look good," Oswald said by way of greeting.

"Thanks," Jim replied, brushing imaginary dirt off the jacket. "So do you." Which wasn't saying much, because Oswald always looked good, but tonight it seemed that he'd put in special effort to his appearance. Jim produced another boutonniere that he'd made earlier for Oswald, a pink camellia.

Oswald recognised the flower as being the same as the first that Jim had tucked into his buttonhole at their second meeting. "Camellia, yes? For good luck."

"They have other meanings, depending on the colour of the flower," Jim said. "Such as perfection, and loveliness."

Oswald's cheeks darkened, and his lips turned up in a small smile. "Perfection? How flattering."

Jim smiled, and thought of the other meaning he had in mind when picking out a flower for Oswald. The book he'd bought said that pink camellias were meant to display longing for the recipient's touch. He wasn't sure how Oswald would react to that, so he kept it to himself.

Despite the opera being sung in a language he didn't understand, Jim did actually have a good time. Oswald explained the plot in whispers in their private box.

"How do you know all this?" Jim asked, a little impressed. He could only follow the plot so far with the actions on stage. "Do you speak italian?"

"No, not much. But…" Oswald gave him a mischievous smile and showed Jim a brochure he'd picked up somewhere that translated everything. He'd hidden it down the side of his chair, looking at it whenever Jim's attention was wholly consumed by the show on stage.

Jim, a little tipsy from the wine they'd shared in the interval, laughed quietly while the soprano died a tragic death on stage. He blamed the drink for the kiss he gave Oswald too, though there was no one around to convince of their romantic involvement.

The moment Jim knew he was lost completely came the night he had to cancel one of his dates with Oswald. He'd left it to the last possible moment, still determined that he would somehow make it, but with a wedding the next day and the bride suddenly deciding that all of the flowers needed to be covered in glitter, there was no way they would be done in time for Jim to get home and get ready.

"I'm really sorry, Oswald," Jim said, sitting on the floor of the greenhouse. "We're going to be here all night, I think." They'd been trying to glitter the flowers for a couple hours by this point, and still weren't done.

"It's okay, I understand," Oswald said, but he sounded disappointed. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Build a time machine, go back in time and tell this couple not to have glitter flowers in their wedding," Jim joked. "Or at least, give us more time to prepare them. The bride only let us know we have to glitter the flowers this afternoon. Selina barely had time to run to the craft store for as much glue spray and glitter as she could carry. But we might not even have enough. We need pink glitter for the white roses, silver glitter for the pink roses, clear glitter for the Queen Anne's Lace, green glitter for the filler leaves and it's got to go on everything from boutonnieres and corsages to the bridal bouquet and all the table arrangements and decorations." Jim ran his free hand through his hair, then grimaced when he realised he was probably covered in glitter now.

"That sounds... " Oswald trailed off.

"The greenhouse looks like we got hit by a glitter nuke," Jim said. "I'm going to have nightmares about glitter for the rest of my life."

On the other end of the phone, Oswald laughed. "I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll rearrange our date for another time."

"Don't laugh at my suffering," Jim said, though he couldn't help smiling himself. "I'd better get back to work. I'll see you later, Oswald."

"Have fun," Oswald replied cheekily before hanging up.

Have fun. Right. Jim looked over at Selina and Ivy, each covered in glitter and surrounded by cans of spray glue. Their aprons were almost pointless by this point. The glitter was everywhere. Perhaps it was best if Jim didn't see Oswald tonight after all. There would certainly be transference, and he didn't want to cover Oswald in glitter. He was sure that he wouldn't appreciate it.

Nearly an hour later, they were still spraying glue on flowers, and covering them in glitter. They had set up a sort of production line, with Jim spraying the glue on, Selina dipping the roses in the glitter and then handing them off to Ivy to put them in jars to dry.

"We're running out of glitter," Selina said.

"Shit," Jim muttered with feeling.

"What are we going to do? There's nowhere open now," Ivy said. "The store will have shut hours ago."

"We're only out of pink so far, but I don't think we have enough silver or green," Selina said. "What time do they have to be ready for?"

"Ten am," Jim answered. "Even if we can get the glitter before the wedding starts, the glue won't have time to dry."

"We are utterly-" Ivy began.

There was a rapid tapping at on the glass of the greenhouse door. All three jumped, startled by the sudden noise.

"I don't believe it," Selina said.

Jim jumped up and hurried to the door. "Oswald?"

"Jim, would you happen to believe I was simply in the area and thought I would pop in to see how you were getting on?" Oswald said, smiling slyly.

"At this hour? No," Jim said, frowning in confusion. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but why did you come?"

"Well, after hearing your woes, I may have made a few calls and... well, no one wants to say no to the mayor," Oswald said. He gestured and his driver, Gabe, appeared out of the darkness, carrying a couple of carrier bags with the craft store logo. "I hope I got the right shades, but I'm sure there should be enough glitter here for all your needs."

Jim stared, speechless.

"And I also had Olga make up some coffee and tea, and I brought some leftovers from dinner as well," Oswald continued, hefting a large picnic basket.

"Oh my god," Selina said. "Jim, your boyfriend is an absolute saint."

"Now there's something I don't hear very often," Oswald said, flashing her a sharp grin and a wink.

"Oswald, I-I don't even know what to say," Jim said, standing aside to let him and the driver in.

Ivy cleared a space on a table away from the glitter for the picnic basket. "Your timing is amazing," she said. "We're running low on pink glitter."

"Well, I'm glad to be of service. In fact, I thought we might help?" Oswald said, looking at Jim. "Many hands and so on."

"If you're sure you don't mind getting covered in glitter," Jim said.

"It's fine, I chose an old outfit to wear tonight," Oswald replied. He was still wearing nicer clothes than anything Jim had ever owned, looking ridiculously formal for sitting about in a mucky greenhouse.

"Let me see if I can find some aprons all the same. They'll help a bit," Jim said. He raked through a box in the corner. "Here. They're a bit scruffy, but they should help keep some of the glitter off."

"I don't mind a bit of glitter," Oswald replied, but he took the apron anyway and let Jim tie it behind him.

They poured tea and coffee from the flasks in the picnic basket, and Jim showed Oswald and Gabe how to spray the flowers and then gently dip them in the glitter.

"You have to be careful not to bend the petals so they don't get stuck out of shape," Jim explained. He handed them a rose each to try it.

Gabe's was a little clumsy, but he gently nudged the petals straight, and Jim figured it would be okay. Oswald's attempt was a bit better, and he looked so pleased with himself when he smiled at Jim that Jim's heart skipped a beat and he knew right then that he was fucked.

The words were suddenly right there, on the tip of his tongue, waiting to burst out of him.

 _"I love you."_

But he didn't say it. He couldn't say it. Not in front of so many people who would then have to watch his humiliation and heartbreak when Oswald turned him down. Selina was right. He was a lovesick idiot, and when Oswald decided they had pretended for long enough, he was going to break Jim's heart.

"Jim?" Oswald was giving him a curious look now. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Jim said, forcing a smile. "Just tired. I think the glue is getting to me."

"You should take a break and get some fresh air," Oswald replied. "I'm sure Selina and Ivy will let us know if we do anything wrong."

Jim nodded, standing up. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, hurrying out of the greenhouse into the cool night air.

He loved Oswald.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax. He didn't have to act any differently. He would still be involved in their pretend relationship for another month at least.

Inside the greenhouse, he could see Oswald and Gabe getting along with Selina and Ivy. The girls' spirits had been lifted by the sudden arrival of help and food, and all four of them were talking and smiling. Oswald, in his 'old clothes' that were still better than anything Jim had bought, and the scruffy apron, was possibly the best thing Jim had ever seen.

Once he had composed himself, Jim went back inside to help himself to coffee. With the additional help, the work went much faster.

When the last flower had been glittered, and the mess cleaned up to the best of their ability, Oswald insisted on giving each of them a ride home.

"The car will be covered in glitter from Gabe and myself anyway. Come on, it isn't safe for young ladies alone at night either," Oswald said, gesturing them all towards the car.

Jim doubted Selina and Ivy truly needed protection, but they weren't about to turn down a free ride in an expensive car. It made him feel better as well to be able to see them home safely before Oswald dropped him at his own apartment.

"Thanks for all your help tonight," Jim said as they sat outside his apartment building.

"It's nothing, really, don't mention it," Oswald said. "What are friends for?" he added quietly, with a small smile.

A sick feeling stirred in Jim's stomach, even as he smiled back. "Still, it means a lot that you and Gabe gave up your night to help us."

Oswald blushed pink and shrugged. "I had nothing else to do," he said, looking away.

Jim leaned over, pressing a hand to Oswald's arm. "You could have done anything else with your free time after I cancelled, and you spent it tracking down glitter and gluing it to flowers." He kissed Oswald then, unable to help himself. His other hand came up to cup Oswald's face gently. He kept it chaste, but lingered as long as he dared. "I really am grateful," he murmured, stroking Oswald's cheek with his thumb, smudging the trail of pink glitter Oswald had acquired over the course of the night.

Oswald turned scarlet, shifting awkwardly in his seat. "Well, you can make it up to me later then." He gave Jim a gentle push. "Right now, you need to sleep." He smiled, and Jim recognised it as one of his fake public smiles.

Jim allowed himself to be pushed away, a sinking feeling in his chest. He bid Oswald goodnight, feigning a smile.

Once in his apartment, he leaned back against the door and let his head thump against it painfully.

"Fuck."


	3. Red Tulips

Jim opened the shop late the next day. After dropping off the flowers earlier for the wedding party and making sure that everything met with the bride's approval, he, Selina, and Ivy had stayed to help get things set up.

Now Ivy had returned to the greenhouses and Selina had gone to get coffee and bagels while Jim opened the shop. Once he had made sure the potted plants were watered and the bunches of flowers were set out in their buckets of water, he slumped on the stool behind the counter. That was where Selina found him ten minutes later.

"Alright, what's wrong?" she asked, dumping coffee cups and a paper bag beside his head. "You've been walking around looking like the world is ending all morning."

"Nothing," Jim mumbled.

"Nope, not buying it," Selina said. She examined the cups to find her latte. "Try again."

"I'm fine," Jim said. "Just tired."

"Did something happen with Oswald after you dropped me and Ivy off?" Selina asked. She hopped up on the counter beside him and raked through the bag for her bagel.

"No," Jim said, then added, "Yes."

"Either one or the other, Jimbo. Either something happened or it didn't," Selina said.

"I kissed him," Jim admitted. "And told him I was grateful for his help." He groaned and hid his face. "I probably sounded like I was propositioning him," he said.

"Oh my god," Selina said, laughing. "He probably thinks you have some weird glitter kink now. What did he do?"

Jim sat up and shrugged, reaching for his coffee. "Nothing. He pushed me away."

"That's it?" Selina asked, smile fading. "You're walking around like your puppy just died because he wouldn't fuck you over a few pots of glitter?"

"That's not it," Jim said. "I wasn't trying to seduce him or anything. He just looked so uncomfortable and I knew…"

"Knew what?" Selina asked when he didn't finish.

"I'm in love with him, Selina, and he doesn't love me," Jim said. "And soon he's going to decide that we've pretended long enough and it's time to go back to being friends, and I'll have to pretend that everything is fine."

Selina patted him on the shoulder, though it wasn't a comforting gesture. "I thought you were trying to convince him to make it real? Don't tell me you're giving up. What happened to the stubborn asshole who stuck to his morals even though it cost him his job at the GCPD? Who clung to his relationship with Lee way beyond the point of it being healthy?"

"Selina, this is different," Jim said.

"The principle is the same," she insisted. "You know what you want, so go get it. Tell him how you feel."

"It's not that simple," Jim argued.

"Yes, it is! You open your mouth and say words. You told me, you can tell him," Selina replied. "Take him out somewhere special, give him a bunch of roses - he'll know the meaning of those - and then tell him you love him."

She made it sound so simple, but doubt curled in his chest. There was so much personal risk. He'd loved Lee so much, gave her everything even after she left him and in the end, he'd only succeeded in making her hate him. He couldn't go through that with Oswald.

Selina nudged him. "Hey. Quit worrying, okay? I don't think you have anything to be afraid of." She looked around the shop, then slid off the counter to fetch a flower from a nearby tub and held it out to Jim. "If roses are too obvious, maybe try something else?"

Jim looked at the red tulip, taking it gently from Selina. A declaration of love, he remembered. There were plenty of other romantic messages to be said with flowers, that didn't involve roses.

"Okay," he agreed. "And now we're officially done talking about my love life." He looked past Selina, out of the window. "Let's talk about yours instead."

"What love life? I have no love life," Selina blurted out, blushing.

"Oh really? I think he might beg to differ," Jim said, indicating behind her.

Selina spun around to look outside, where Bruce was stepping out of his car while his butler held the door. The young man visibly brightened when he saw Selina watching through the window.

"I'll be in the back room," Jim said, grabbing his bagel and coffee from the countertop.

"Don't you dare abandon- Oh, hey, Bruce…" Selina's voice followed him out of the room.

When Oswald rearranged their next date, Jim met him at the restaurant in a shirt and tie that Oswald had bought and gave him a bunch of red tulips. Oswald had the kitchen put them in water while they ate. Neither of them brought up the night Oswald had come to the greenhouse or the way he had pushed Jim away afterwards. Jim hoped that Oswald's slightly more distant manner was all in his head.

At their next date, a stolen hour in a coffee shop not far from the city hall, Jim gave Oswald a posy of violets in purple to say Oswald was in his thoughts, and white to ask him to take a chance on Jim. Oswald smiled politely, but didn't ask for their meaning as he normally would have done, and turned the conversation to other topics.

During a walk in the park, he picked a primrose from a flower bed to say that he couldn't live without Oswald. When Oswald pretended to make a fuss about vandalism, Jim simply tucked it into his buttonhole and silenced him with a kiss. They held hands for the rest of their walk, but though Oswald held on tightly and lingered longer than usual when it came time to part, he wouldn't look him in the eye.

Jim thought things were getting better and that Oswald must be relaxing again when he made dinner reservations at an upscale restaurant, but halfway through their meal, Oswald shared his plan for a believable break up.

"We should see each other less," Oswald said. "We can say we're too busy, then decide it would be better to call off the relationship while we're still getting along and go back to being friends."

"Yeah," Jim said, past the lump in his throat. "Sounds… believable." He glanced at the butterfly orchid pinned to Oswald's lapel for love. "We do have the Wayne Enterprises event coming up. Ivy may need help in the greenhouses preparing for it." He attempted a smile. "At least they won't want glitter."

Oswald smiled back. "Well, that's good. I should think you've had enough of glitter to last a lifetime."

"I'm still finding it in places glitter has no business being," Jim grumbled.

Oswald was polite enough to keep his laughter quiet, but it was far too brief. He sobered after a moment to continue discussing their break up. "I thought perhaps one or two more dates over the next three weeks, then we put an end to this," he said.

Jim forced himself to nod in agreement. "Yeah, okay."

He had two more dates at most, and then it was over. Two more dates to show Oswald how he felt, and then it was back to being friends. Just Saturday morning chats and text messages.

If the goodnight kiss they shared afterwards was more desperate than usual on Jim's part, Oswald was good enough not to mention it.

Selina and Ivy were not the sympathetic ears Jim had hoped they would be. He didn't know why he expected any differently when he told them of the plans over the next few weeks.

"You're being too subtle," Ivy said. "And there's something I never thought I'd say."

They were loading flowers into the small van to take to the shop early, the morning after Oswald announced their break up timetable.

"Maybe it's not Oswald you need to make smell your perfume," Selina said to her. "Whammy Jim just before the next date, make him tell Oswald everything."

"Absolutely not!" Jim protested. "No interference from either of you."

"Take roses for the next date," Ivy said. "Everyone knows what they mean. Even Oswald will have to buy a clue."

"What he needs is to actually talk to Oswald," Selina said.

Jim shoved a tub of carnations at her to load into the van. "No."

"Why not?" Selina demanded. "And why do you keep coming to us for advice you never follow?" She put the flowers in the van and turned back to him.

Jim didn't really have an answer for that.

"You're being stubborn in the wrong direction," Selina continued, hands on her hips. "Be stubborn about not letting him go, if you're going to be stubborn at all."

"Why are men like this?" Ivy sighed. She handed a bunch of red roses to Jim. "I mean it. Send these to Oswald."

"What if he's not interested?" Jim asked. "I've been trying to show that I care, that I want this to be real since it started. I've done almost everything I would normally do in a relationship, but he still talks about the end, and going back to being friends." He sighed, sitting in the back of the van while Selina and Ivy gathered around him. "I could handle being friends. At least I would still have that. But what if I tell him and it ruins everything? What if I push him too hard and he hates me for it like Lee does?" He looked down despondently at the roses in his hands.

Selina and Ivy shared a look. They'd seen the aftermath of Jim's relationship with Lee. It hadn't been pretty. Jim had been too stubborn in clinging to their failed relationship and eventually, Lee had had enough. After one last fight, just before her wedding, she'd told him she hated him and wanted nothing more to do with him. It had taken Jim a long time to move on, because he hadn't been willing to let her go. He'd been reluctant to even try pursuing anyone else for a long time after, but he had slowly relaxed. He'd started flirting again, albeit meaninglessly, with customers. At least, it had been meaningless until Oswald had walked into their shop.

The girls squeezed into the van beside him.

"He's not Lee," Selina said. "And you're not going to push him into anything he doesn't want." She cuddled in next to him and put her head on his shoulder.

Ivy made herself comfortable on his other side, putting her arms around him. "Isn't being happy worth the risk? What if he gives you a chance? What if he falls in love with you too?"

"Think positive, Jim," Selina added. "Besides, if Oswald really hated the thought of dating you, he'd have picked a different fake boyfriend, right?"

"And you know you could have been doing literally anything, but you've been going on actual dates," Ivy pointed out.

"He has to have something to tell Ed about when he gets home," Jim said weakly.

Ivy and Selina shared an exasperated look.

"Right. Fine. Then you're going to make us a promise," Selina said. "And you never break a promise, right?"

"Right," Jim said, despite the growing trepidation he felt at Selina's tone.

"You are going to promise us that you are going to say the words "I love you, Oswald" before this mess ends, when he's actually able to hear and respond to you," Selina said.

"And you'll actually stick around to hear what he has to say afterwards without running away," Ivy added.

"I wouldn't run away," Jim said, frowning.

Ivy shrugged. "Just trying to cover all the bases," she explained.

"Now promise," Selina said.

Jim knew he wasn't getting out of it. With a resigned sigh, he promised them both, "I'll tell Oswald I love him."

It was easier said than done. While he appreciated Ivy's suggestion of red roses for an unmistakable message, he still hesitated when the time came, and made a bouquet of chrysanthemums and carnations instead, decorated with a few pieces of maidenhair ferns.

They had a table reserved at a restaurant they both liked. Jim wore one of his best shirts, bought for him by Oswald, because all of Jim's best clothes had been gifts from him. He'd rehearsed what he wanted to say in front of the mirror before leaving home, and could only hope that Oswald would hear him out.

Oswald was unusually late, though. Jim sat alone at their table, occasionally sipping from a glass of water or fidgeting with the flower arrangement he had made. Red chrysanthemums to say he was in love with Oswald, and white to say it was the truth. There were red carnations for an aching heart, and white ones for pure love. The maidenhair ferns he'd embellished it with were for a secret love, though it wouldn't be a secret for much longer.

All Oswald had to do was show up.

Jim was starting to think he had been stood up when Oswald finally got to the restaurant, half an hour late.

"Terribly sorry, I got held up… business, you know. Really, I'm so sorry," he said, not looking at Jim as he yanked out his chair to sit down. He reached for his menu. "Did you order yet or were you waiting for me?"

"Oswald? Is everything okay?" Jim asked, taking note of Oswald's shaking hands and agitated behaviour. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing at all," Oswald said, finally looking up at him. He flashed a quick smile and then turned his attention back to the menu. He hadn't even looked at the flowers.

Jim reached across the table to take one of Oswald's hands in his own. "Oswald, you can talk to me about anything, you know. I'm here if you need me."

Oswald looked down at their joined hands, then across the table at Jim. His mouth opened and closed a few times. Jim waited patiently for him to speak, sure that Oswald would confide in him as he usually did. He wasn't expecting Oswald to suddenly pull away, standing up.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Oswald blurted out. He stumbled around the table, hurrying away from Jim as fast as his bad leg would allow.

People were staring now, but Jim paid them no mind. He froze for a moment, wondering just what was going on. But he couldn't let Oswald just walk away from him without an explanation.

"Oswald, wait!" He chased after Oswald, catching up with him just outside the restaurant.

"Jim, I have to go," Oswald said.

"Tell me what's going on," Jim demanded. He saw that Oswald's car was waiting outside the restaurant, Gabe carefully not paying attention inside. Confusion and doubt stirred in his belly. Oswald usually dismissed his driver after getting to the restaurant, only calling him when they were leaving. Had Oswald not planned to stay for their meal after all?

"I have to go," Oswald repeated. "I-I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore."

"What?" No. No, he couldn't be…

"I'm sorry. I know it's not what we planned, but I think it's better this way. What we have - this game of pretend - it's over now. I know it's sudden, and I'm sorry for wasting your time, but it's better like this," Oswald said. He pulled away from Jim, reaching for the car door.

"Oswald, wait! I have to tell you-"

But it was too late. The car door slammed shut as Oswald commanded Gabe to take him home, and the car pulled away, melding with the traffic until they might as well have never been there at all. Jim stood on the sidewalk and watched Oswald leave, taking Jim's heart with him.

Selina and Ivy were much more sympathetic when they learned what had happened. They also swore revenge, but Jim made them promise that no one would get hurt and Ivy wasn't allowed to use her perfumes to influence Oswald in any way.

He didn't hear from Oswald at all, though he kept his phone by him at all times. He wanted to send a message, check that Oswald was alright, but he wasn't sure what would be appropriate. They had been friends, and they were meant to go back to that state, but after the abrupt way Oswald had ended their charade, Jim was no longer sure where he stood with the other man. He threw himself into work as much as he could to distract himself, but there were always quiet periods in the shop, and Ivy only had so much patience for him moping around in the greenhouses.

When Saturday rolled around, Jim wasn't sure if he should open the shop as usual or switch with Selina. In the end, Selina offered to take over for him, because she wanted a nice, quiet non-threatening word with Oswald herself. Jim didn't entirely trust her in that regard, but in the end it didn't matter because Oswald never showed up. The roses and lilies set aside for him went back into the tubs with the rest of their flowers late in the afternoon, after Selina gave up on seeing the mayor in their little shop.

Unwilling to bother Ivy for a full day, Jim spent the day on his sofa, staring at the television without actually watching it. He had too many questions. What had been bothering Oswald? Why did he end it between them so suddenly? How could he possibly have said it was better? Unless he knew how Jim felt about him, and had thought it was better to break his heart swiftly instead of drawing it out. At this stage, Jim didn't know if it would have been better to have let things end as they had talked about and go back to being friends, or if it was truly better to have it end suddenly. All he knew was that he missed Oswald.

He toyed with the idea of ringing Oswald all day. His finger hovered over the call button on his phone for longer than he cared to admit. He still had his promise to keep to Selina and Ivy after all. Perhaps it would be easier to hear Oswald's rejection over the phone instead of face to face and having him to see him walk away again.

He was so preoccupied with his despair and regrets that he barely noticed time passing until his stomach rumbled and he realised it was dark outside. He hadn't even bothered to put the light on in his apartment, too busy staring at his phone until the screen went dark and then turning it on again as he gathered the courage to call or text Oswald.

At some point during the afternoon a rainstorm had started. It seemed fitting somehow, the skies crying the tears Jim wouldn't. Finally, he got up and put the light on to get something to eat from the kitchen, fixing himself a bowl of cereal because anything else felt like it would be too much effort. Even then, he lost his appetite after a few spoonfuls and found himself staring at the water running down the outside of the window, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the glass while his cereal went soggy in front of him.

Rapid knocking at his door startled Jim into spilling the milk from his bowl. He dropped the bowl in the sink, cereal and all, on his way to the door. It was probably Selina or Ivy checking in on him, so he didn't feel the need to hurry.

But the dripping wet figure on the other side of the door wasn't either of the girls.

"Oswald?"

"Hello, old friend." Oswald smiled at him miserably, leaning heavily on his cane. He was pale and shaking in his wet clothes, umbrella nowhere to be seen.

It took Jim a moment to recover, but then he stood aside to let him in. "You must be freezing. Let me find you some towels."

"I don't want to trouble you," Oswald said, even as he stepped over the threshold. "I just… There's something I need to say."

"It can wait until you're warm and dry," Jim said firmly. "I'm not having you get hypothermia because you think a conversation is more important." He gestured Oswald toward the sofa and went to fetch some towels from the bathroom, giving himself a moment to compose himself at the same time.

Oswald was here, in his apartment.

While Oswald had had his driver drop him outside the building plenty of times, he had never come inside. Now Jim was keenly aware of the simplicity of his living arrangements in contrast to Oswald's mansion.

Oswald was standing in the middle of his living room, dripping water on the carpet. He hadn't even taken off his coat. He looked so uncertain and unhappy that Jim wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms and reassure him that everything would be alright.

He didn't. After the way Oswald had left him, he didn't know if such a thing would be welcome.

"Take your coat off," Jim said, handing Oswald a couple of towels.

Oswald silently did as he was told, exchanging his soaked coat for dry towels. He didn't look Jim in the eye as he did so, gaze flitting between Jim's chest and the rest of the apartment. Jim was suddenly acutely aware of his own state of dress, not having bothered to change out of the tank top and sweatpants he had slept in the night before.

"Maybe I should find you a change of clothes. You're soaked to the skin," Jim said, seeing that even under the coat, Oswald was wet. "Hold on, I'm sure I've got something you can wear."

"You don't need to go to such trouble for me," Oswald said, but Jim was already going back to his bedroom to rake through his drawers.

He returned with an old t-shirt and some sweatpants with a drawstring. "You can change in the bathroom," he said.

"You really shouldn't trouble yourself, old friend," Oswald said quietly, but he took the clothes all the same.

"It's what friends do," Jim replied, finally giving in to the desire to touch Oswald, even if it was just a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Come on, bathroom's this way."

Jim led Oswald to the bathroom and waited outside while he changed.

If Jim tried, he could hear the sound of clothes rustling as Oswald stripped himself of his wet suit. Then he swiftly turned his thoughts away from the direction they were heading. Sweatpants would not hide the erection he was sure to get if he let himself think about the fact that Oswald was naked in his bathroom.

"So how did you get soaked like that? I would have thought Gabe would have stopped right outside the door, especially in this weather," Jim said, leaning by the door.

"There was a car accident a few blocks away from here," Oswald said. "Traffic's been stopped in all directions while they sort it out. I thought I would get here faster if I walked, so I left Gabe and told him to go home at the first opportunity. But I left in such a hurry to see you that I left my umbrella behind."

The bathroom door opened. Jim's clothes hung off Oswald's smaller frame, and his hair was mussed from drying it with the towel, giving him a vulnerable look. He had an uncertain expression on his face, holding his neatly folded clothes.

"I wasn't sure where to put these," he said.

"I'll hang them up," Jim offered, taking them from Oswald. "Go make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

As Oswald limped back to the living room, Jim hung his clothes up in the small utility room by the kitchen. Oswald's sudden arrival had Jim feeling tense, but he was slowly starting to relax again as he distracted himself, but he still didn't know why Oswald had come. He was grateful for something to do other than talk about what had happened between them though. At least, until he found Oswald's underwear in the pile of clothes. The boxer briefs were damp, and soft and he could perfectly imagine Oswald wearing them.

And then he abruptly cut that train of thought, because now he was thinking about the fact that Oswald wasn't wearing underwear under his borrowed sweatpants.

Jim hung the rest of the clothes up hurriedly and then went to take a moment to compose himself. He didn't want to face Oswald when he was still thinking about the other man's underwear hanging in the other room.

But the way Oswald was curled miserably on his sofa chased all other thoughts out of Jim's head. He was hugging his good knee to his chest, biting the end of his thumbnail. He looked up when Jim came in and flashed him a brief smile.

Jim sat at the other end of the sofa. "You feel better now?"

"Yes, thank you," Oswald replied. "I feel like you're being more kind than I deserve, after the way I ran out on you the other day."

"You were upset about something. I'm still hoping for an explanation," Jim said. "But I won't push you for one," he added, seeing the worried expression on Oswald's face.

Oswald didn't relax, but he nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"So… you said you had something you had to say to me?" Jim asked.

Oswald nodded, straightening up. He looked at Jim, but wouldn't meet his eyes as he said, "We can't break up."

"What?" Jim asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Oswald took a deep breath. "Ed and Isabella… they're determined that we be happy. So we can't break up. I told them the story we agreed on, that it was a mutual decision, but they said that if I lo- care for you, then I should fight for this. For us. So. We can't break up yet."

Jim was silent for a long moment. He wanted to say yes, just as he had before, and go back to being Oswald's fake boyfriend if that was all he would get. But now he knew how badly it would hurt when it was all over for real.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, and if you say no then that will be the end of it," Oswald said. "It's just… things got better with Ed after I said… well, after I let him believe we were dating. And he and Isabella wanted to double date again sometime and I…"

Oswald was still talking, but Jim had tuned him out. Of course this was all about Edward. Jim had never stood a chance. Everything had been about saving Oswald's friendship with that man, even though it wouldn't evolve into the more romantic relationship he wished for.

Jim understood now. He found himself wanting to do anything to save what he could of his friendship with Oswald. Even if it meant letting himself get hurt.

"Jim? Are you alright?" Oswald's hesitant question brought Jim out of his despairing thoughts.

"Have you thought about telling Edward the truth? That this was faked over a misunderstanding?" Jim asked instead of giving an answer.

Oswald's face fell, and he turned his gaze away. "That's a no to getting back together, isn't it?"

"We were never really together in the first place," Jim pointed out.

Oswald flinched as if struck. "I guess you're right," he murmured. "I should get out of your hair," he added, standing up.

Jim glanced out of the window, where he could see it was still raining heavily. Oswald would get soaked again if he left now. "Stay the night," he said, before he'd really thought about it.

Oswald turned to look at him so sharply Jim thought he would lose his balance. "What?"

Jim indicated the window with a nod of his head. "It's still pouring with rain, and your clothes will still be wet. You'll get sick if you go now," he said.

Oswald looked uncertainly out of the window. "I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble," he said.

Jim sighed. "You keep saying that, and I'm going to keep saying that it's no trouble to help out a friend. I'm not going to let you get sick, so stay the night. You can take the bed, and I'll sleep out here on the sofa."

Oswald looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh, no, no, I couldn't possibly take your bed from you. I'm sure the sofa will be fine."

Jim shook his head and stood up. "Take the bed, Oswald. Come on, it's this way." He walked off without listening to any more of Oswald's protests, heart hammering wildly in his chest.

Oswald was staying the night. He would be in Jim's bed. Would the sheets smell of him in the morning?

Behind him, he heard the tap of Oswald's cane following him. It seemed Oswald had given up on protesting, which Jim was glad of. The thought of Oswald in his bed, even just sleeping, did funny things to Jim's heart.

"You can sleep here," Jim said. He walked over to the closet to find some spare sheets and a pillow to take through to the living room. When there was no response, protest or otherwise, Jim looked over at Oswald, who had frozen in the doorway. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Um. Yes, of course." Oswald said distractedly. He was staring at Jim's bed, a blush spread over his cheeks and a glazed look in his eyes.

"You look flushed. Are you getting sick?" Jim asked. He dropped the spare sheets on the bed and crossed the room to press a hand to Oswald's forehead.

"I'm quite well, I assure you," Oswald said hurriedly. "I just… I don't want you to be uncomfortable on the sofa all night. I know you've fallen asleep there before, and you'll be sore when you wake up in the morning." He glanced at the bed and then back to Jim. "I couldn't do that to such a dear friend so… why don't we share the bed? It's big enough that we shouldn't bother each other in the night, right?"

It took a moment to process what Oswald was suggesting. Share the bed. Jim looked over at the bed. Oswald was clearly going to be the death of him.

"I guess. If you're sure," Jim said before his brain had fully caught up with his mouth.

Oswald brightened. "Good. I would hate to think of you suffering all night because of me."

Jim bit his tongue on a response regarding the manner of his nightly suffering, because sharing the bed with Oswald would only lead to different parts of him aching all night.

"I'll text Ed to let him know what's happening," Oswald said, turning away. "I at least know when to let him know when I'm staying out all night," he muttered.

Jim let him go on ahead while he put the sheets back in the closet. He'd just agreed to share his bed with Oswald. Tonight was going to be a special kind of torture.

After Oswald had texted Ed, they turned in for the night. It was late, and Jim had been left exhausted by the emotional turmoil caused by Oswald's sudden arrival.

Yet Jim couldn't sleep. He was hyper aware of Oswald next to him. He faced the wall and pretended to sleep, but couldn't help listening to Oswald's steady breathing over the sound of the rain outside. He wasn't sure if he was imagining being able to feel his warmth, but he wanted to roll over and immerse himself in it, wrap himself around Oswald and breathe in the scent of his aftershave.

If they were dating, he would have done it. But they weren't, so he didn't. They weren't even fake dating anymore.

Jim shifted restlessly. He could go back to pretending to date Oswald, if he simply told Oswald that he agreed with his plan. But things would change. Oswald spending the night now would mean he would be expected to spend the night again in the future. Jim might be expected to spend the night at the mansion, and they would definitely have to share Oswald's bed there. They wouldn't be able to hide sleeping separately from Edward.

"Jim?"

If Oswald coming back to his apartment after dates became a part of their routine, it would only be harder to resist doing all the things Jim wanted to do to him. If Oswald spent the night in his bed, it was inevitable that they would one day wake up with Jim wrapped around him and Oswald feigning politeness and suggesting that maybe it was time they ended their pretence, thanks for the help, see you around sometime and that would be it.

"Jim? Are you alright?"

Jim rolled over. "I can't do this."

In the darkness, he could make out Oswald staring at him. "I can go out to the sofa if you prefer?" he said in a quiet voice, after a moment's pause.

"No, that's not... I meant the fake relationship," Jim clarified. "I can't keep pretending that we're dating, so my answer is no."

"Oh. I see. I-"

"Not when I want it to be real," Jim finished, cutting off Oswald's shaky voice.

"Jim… what are you saying?"

Jim sat up, bracing himself for rejection. "I'm saying… that I love you, Oswald." He took a deep breath, feeling something loosen in his chest at being able to get the words out. He pressed on before Oswald could say anything. "And it's been getting harder to pretend that it is all pretend on my end. I thought I could handle it, when this started, but I didn't know I'd fall in love with you so completely, and even now I want to say yes and go back to being in a fake relationship if that's all I can have of you, but if you're still in love with Ed, if you're thinking of him every time we kiss, then I don't think I can do this any longer." Jim stopped, aware suddenly that he had been rambling, revealing far more than he had intended.

"Jim..." Oswald's voice had gone all breathless.

"I can go sleep on the sofa if you're too uncomfortable," Jim said, turning to do just that. He was shaking, and hoped desperately that Oswald couldn't tell in the dark.

"Don't you dare!" Oswald said, lunging for him. "Jim, I didn't know, didn't think you could feel like that for me. I thought you were just acting."

"Oswald?" Jim hesitated, then let Oswald pull him back to face him.

"I've never once thought of Ed while we were kissing. I never had anyone else in my mind except for you, and the wish for you to never stop." Oswald gently cupped Jim's face, his thumb brushing away a tear Jim hadn't even realised had fallen. Oswald himself had tears running down his face, shining in the dim light provided by both Jim's alarm clock and the streetlamp outside. "I do love Ed," he confessed. "He's my best friend. But it's not the same as the love I feel for you."

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but there were no words. Oswald took advantage of his speechlessness to close the gap between them and press a gentle kiss to Jim's parted lips.

With a gasp, almost a sob, Jim kissed back as if trying to pour all his love into this one act. He pressed Oswald back down against the bed, kissing him until he was breathless.

Oswald opened up beneath him, letting Jim lick into his mouth and slot his thigh between Oswald's legs. Oswald gripped Jim's tank top tightly, rubbing himself against Jim's leg, uncaring of how it might seem, as the atmosphere turned from being emotionally charged to something more passionate.

When they parted for a moment, both were panting. It was too dark for Jim to see the flush he knew would be painting Oswald's face. Oswald whimpered beneath him.

"Don't stop," he whined.

"How far do you want to take this?" Jim asked. "Because I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable." He slid a hand under the t-shirt Oswald was wearing, feeling warm skin. "I've been waiting so long for what's between us to be real, I don't want to ruin it so soon."

Oswald shivered. "You're not ruining anything, Jim. I want to do everything with you. Anything. Just, please, if you leave me wanting like every other time you've kissed me, I'm going to castrate you."

Jim laughed quietly, hardly able to believe this was really happening. "As you wish," he said. He kissed Oswald again, pushing his thigh up against Oswald.

Oswald groaned, grinding against Jim with increasing desperation. Jim gasped into his mouth, pushing the t-shirt up, desperate to feel bare skin. Oswald squirmed, making a little noise of protest, and Jim backed off.

"Oswald?"

"Sorry, I'm not... Not like you. Not... Not..." He tugged the t-shirt down. "Not attractive. You're so... and I'm not."

"Idiot," Jim said fondly. "I think you're gorgeous. You'll always be beautiful to me. But if you'd rather keep it on, you can."

"Are you taking yours off?" Oswald asked, and the hope in his voice made Jim grin.

"If you like." At Oswald's eager nod, Jim sat up fully, shifting to kneel between Oswald's legs, and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Oswald raised his hands as if to touch him, but held back uncertainly. Jim gently took hold of his wrists and pressed his slender hands against his chest.

"You can touch if you want to. I don't like being pinched and nipped, but anything else is fine," Jim said.

In the darkness, Oswald nodded again. "Okay." He ran his hands over Jim's chest, trailed fingertips down his sides and smirked when Jim squirmed. "You're ticklish?"

"Don't get any ideas," Jim warned.

Oswald giggled. "Okay." He pressed a little firmer as he continued his explorations with his hands. He only hesitated when he reached the tip of Jim's boxers. For a long moment he stared at the tent in the fabric.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want," Jim reassured him.

Oswald looked up at the soft smile on Jim's face. "What about what you want?" he asked.

"I want everything, want to do everything with you, but I'm not going to ask you for more than you're willing to give," Jim said. "I want to be sure you're not going to regret any of this in the morning. So if you want to touch me, then you can, and if you'd rather we both just sleep then we will."

Oswald nodded, then very deliberately wrapped his hand around Jim's clothed erection. "I don't want to sleep."

Jim gasped and tried not to buck into his grip. "Okay." He gasped again as Oswald experimentally moved his hand up and down, and again when he decided the fabric was getting in the way, pulling them down to expose Jim's cock.

Oswald's confidence seemed to grow with every encouraging gasp and groan he pulled from Jim.

"Is this alright?" Oswald asked. "I don't… um." He trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

"You're doing good," Jim replied, voice hoarse with arousal. "Can I..?" He shifted and trailed his hand up Oswald's leg to rest it over his hip, close to his straining erection.

"Please," Oswald said desperately, letting go of Jim. He gasped loudly when Jim moved his sweatpants down to free his cock.

Jim pulled them off completely, mindful of Oswald's bad leg. He could barely make out scars and twisted bone in the dim lighting, but didn't stop to focus on it. He'd noticed that Oswald was self-conscious about it, and didn't want to give him a reason to think about it right now. Instead, he dropped both Oswald's and his own sweatpants at the end of the bed and moved back up to take Oswald's cock in his hand.

"Good?" Jim asked, moving his hand slowly.

Oswald groaned in response, bucking his hips upwards as his own grip on Jim faltered. "Please, Jim."

"Please what?" Jim asked. "Faster?" He sped up his movements. "Slower?" He slowed down again.

Oswald whined and pushed upwards. "Kiss me, I need-"

Jim bent down and kissed him hungrily. Oswald clutched at him desperately, short nails digging into Jim's shoulders. He thrust his hips upwards frantically, and cursed when Jim removed his hand.

"Not yet," Jim murmured against Oswald's mouth. "I just got you in my bed. I intend to enjoy myself." He pressed another kiss to Oswald's mouth, and trailed more along his jaw and down his neck until he reached the collar of the t-shirt. His hands traced warm patterns over his hips.

"Jim..."

Jim moved down, kissing Oswald's chest and stomach through the t-shirt. Oswald squirmed, then let out a frustrated noise and pushed him back.

"Hang on.." He took the t-shirt off. "Too warm," he muttered, looking away. Jim would have bet good money that he was blushing.

Jim only smiled fondly and repeated his kisses on Oswald's bare skin. "You're lovely," he said. "All of you, head to toes. Lovely eyes, lovely mouth, lovely body, lovely cock." He punctuated this with a kiss to the tip of Oswald's erection, causing the other man to gasp again. Jim swiped his tongue over the head, drawing a groan out of Oswald.

Jim grinned at Oswald's responsiveness, and drew his cock into his mouth.

"Jim!" Oswald's hands found Jim's hair and tangled in the short locks. "Oh God."

Jim slowly bobbed his head up and down, drawing his tongue over the smooth skin. Oswald let out a high-pitched keening, gripping Jim's hair almost too painfully. When Jim thought he was close to his climax, he drew back, not wanting to finish this so soon.

"Can I try something else?" he asked. "If you don't enjoy it, I'll stop as soon as you give the word."

Panting, Oswald nodded. "If you think it will feel good," he said.

Jim reached over to the nightstand, and pulled a bottle of lube out of the drawer. "This will feel strange at first," he warned, sitting back up. He poured some on his fingers and reached between Oswald's legs. His slick fingers found Oswald's entrance. "Is this okay?" he asked as Oswald tensed.

"Fine," Oswald gasped. "Just... Unexpected. And cold."

"Sorry. It'll warm up soon," Jim promised. He circled Oswald's entrance with a fingertip and gently pressed inside. "Relax, I know it feels weird at first, but it will get better."

Oswald nodded, and some of the tension left his body. "Have you -?"

"I've been on both sides of this," Jim said. "Just not for a long time."

Oswald nodded and wriggled. "It's... Odd. Not unpleasant, though."

"Just wait," Jim said, smirking. He pressed deeper, then withdrew and added another finger. When both were deep inside Oswald, he crooked his fingers.

Oswald cried out in surprise and pleasure. "Jim!"

"So you like that?" Jim teased. He rubbed his fingers over the little bundle of nerves again, causing Oswald to writhe and cry out again.

"Don't. Tease," Oswald bit out, trying to push back with his hips. "Please, Jim!"

Jim spent some more time preparing Oswald with two fingers, then added a third. When Oswald was writhing and gasping beneath him, entrance slick with lube, Jim withdrew his fingers completely. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand. "Do you want-?"

"Yes, damn it, fuck me or-or something! Please, Jim, don't you dare stop," Oswald said, pleading and commanding all at once.

Jim laughed softly and fumbled in the darkness to roll the condom on and rubbed lube-slick fingers over his cock. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked Oswald. Not half an hour ago, their relationship hadn't even been real, though it may as well have been. He worried this was going too quickly, but trusted Oswald to know his own mind. Oswald had just confessed to loving him as well, after all.

"Yes, I'm sure and if you ask again, I'm going to kill you," Oswald said. He shifted, spreading his legs wider in invitation.

Jim lined himself up and pushed slowly against the ring of muscle, gasping as the head of his cock slid inside. Oswald whimpered, and he froze.

"It's fine. Just a bit uncomfortable. I'll be fine," Oswald said. "Keep going."

Jim rocked back, then forwards, edging in slowly to give Oswald time to adjust. When he was finally seated all the way in, he paused, looking down at Oswald.

"Okay?"

Oswald nodded. "Yes, I just feel... Full," he said. He wriggled his hips a little, drawing a groan from Jim. He smirked, and did it again.

Jim drew back and thrust back in with a little more force, equal parts punishment and pleasure. Oswald cursed, and for a moment, Jim thought he had hurt him.

"Again, please, Jim," Oswald begged.

Jim obeyed, grinning. "Good?" he asked, pausing again.

"You know it is, you infuriating beast," snarled Oswald, bucking his hips lightly. "Move!"

Jim laughed, dipping his head to kiss him, resuming his movements at a more leisurely pace. Oswald tangled his fingers in his hair, gasping into his mouth with every brush of Jim's cock against his prostate.

Jim trailed kisses along Oswald's jaw, down his neck and along his shoulders, anywhere he could reach. His hands ran across Oswald's bare skin, revelling in being able to touch as much as he wanted. "God, I love you," he muttered into Oswald's neck. "Love you so much."

Beneath him, Oswald made helpless little noises, moving his hips in time with Jim's thrusts. His cock was trapped between them, smearing precum over both of them, but the friction wasn't quite enough to get him off.

"Jim... Jim, please, I need..."

Jim grasped Oswald's cock with one hand, pumping in time with his thrusts. He smeared precum over the head with his thumb, grinning at the whimper and hissed "Yessss..." that Oswald let out.

It didn't take much to bring Oswald over the edge. He spilled over Jim's hand and his own belly with a cry, back bowed and body taut.

As Oswald twitched and came down from his orgasm, Jim reached his own climax, thrusting deep with a groan. He lay with his face buried in Oswald's neck, panting.

"That was..." Oswald seemed to run out of words.

"Yeah." Jim stayed put for another moment, then pulled his softening cock from Oswald's body. "Stay here. I'll be back in a moment."

"What..?"

Jim got up and padded to the bathroom in the dark. He had to put the light on to find what he was looking for though, squinting in the sudden brightness. He disposed of his condom, and turned on the hot tap to let the water warm up a little. When he returned to Oswald, it was with a damp washcloth and a towel.

"Jim?" Oswald asked, sitting up on his elbows.

"You don't want to sleep like that," Jim said. "It won't be nice in the morning." He gently wiped down Oswald's belly, sliding the warm cloth over his cock as well. Then he dried Oswald off and threw the towel and cloth in the direction of the bathroom.

Oswald hummed in appreciation, smiling sleepily. Jim lay beside him and pulled him close. Oswald happily cuddled into him.

"I love you," Oswald murmured. "I didn't say it properly before." His fingers traced invisible patterns delicately on Jim's chest.

"I love you too," Jim replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Oswald's head.

There was silence for a moment and then Oswald spoke again. "While we're confessing things to each other… there is something I should probably tell you."

"Oh?" Jim squinted down at Oswald suspiciously in the dark. "What is it?"

"You remember when I came to ask you to pretend to be my boyfriend? I said that Ed and Isabella had misheard me, but… well. They didn't. I told them we were together," Oswald said quietly.

"Okay," Jim said, confused. "But why did you lie to them? And then to me?"

"Because… I thought Edward might relax more if he thought I was over him, and then things could go back to the way they were," Oswald admitted quietly. "And then they spent the next couple of days asking me about bringing you home for dinner and I kept thinking about what it could be like if we were dating, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it for real. So I said I'd ask if you would come. I only told you there'd been a misunderstanding because it was less pathetic than the truth."

"I really don't know what to say to that," Jim said. "You were trying to trick me into dating you?"

"I did trick you into dating me," Oswald said.

Jim snorted. "Some trick. I was already half in love with you. I'd have done it anyway."

"Oh."

Jim felt Oswald's lips curl into a smile against his chest. He ran a hand through Oswald's hair, feeling how soft it was after all the product had been washed out.

"There's something I'm curious about, though," Jim said, a little hesitantly. He didn't want to spoil the loving mood, but he had to know.

"Yes?" Oswald replied with some trepidation.

"When you left me in the restaurant… why did you go?" Jim asked, looking down at the top of Oswald's head.

Oswald hesitated before he answered. "I left because… I love you," he said quietly.

"I'm going to need you to explain that, because I really don't follow your logic," Jim replied, confused.

"We were going to end our arrangement, and though I'd tried to maintain some distance between us, I couldn't. I love you too much," Oswald said quietly. "And each date was torment. You were perfect and I knew I couldn't have that, couldn't keep you from finding someone you really loved, so I thought… better to get it over with." He looked up at Jim, gaze pleading with him to understand and forgive him. "I thought all your sweetness and flowers were part of the act we were putting on."

Jim reached for Oswald's hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles. "Oswald," he began seriously. "While I'm flattered by your belief in my abilities, I'm really not that good an actor." He smiled, rubbing his thumb over Oswald's hand gently.

Oswald giggled, shifting until he could wipe his eyes with his free hand.

"You're ridiculous," Jim said. "But I love it. Love you."

"I am not ridiculous," Oswald protested.

"You broke up with me because you love me. That's the opposite of what you're supposed to do when you're in love," Jim pointed out. "Therefore, you are ridiculous."

"You didn't tell me you were in love with me," Oswald argued.

"Red tulips," Jim countered. "Mean a declaration of love. Orchids mean love, too. The red chrysanthemums I had for you the day you left me mean I love you and the rest of the flowers reinforced that."

"Give me roses next time. I'll get it then," Oswald snapped, though he was smiling.

Jim laughed at that, hugging Oswald closer to him.

"I'm sorry," Oswald said. "I've caused you nothing but pain these last few days. I have no idea how I'll ever make it up to you."

"I have a few ideas," Jim replied, smirking. He shifted suggestively against Oswald.

Oswald giggled, burying his face in Jim's chest. "I should have come clean so much earlier. We could have been doing this for days. Weeks, even."

Jim shrugged, glanced at the clock and then said, "Well, if you give me half an hour or so, we can start making up for lost time."

"And tomorrow is Sunday," Oswald said. "I don't have anything scheduled on Sundays."

"And we're closed on Sundays, so I have nowhere to go," Jim said, a smile spreading across his face at the prospect of spending a day in bed with his lover.

"A full day together," Oswald murmured, sounding almost giddy.

Jim captured one of Oswald's hands and brought it up to his lips, pressing kisses to the knuckles. "And then all the time in the world after that."

They fell asleep together, still entwined, feeling happy and safe, and most of all, loved.


End file.
